The Sheikh Takes A Bride. Caroline Cross
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“I don’t like being commandeered.”
“Ah.” His expression lightened. “Does it happen often?”
“Of course not!”
He shrugged, and she felt the steely strength of his body beneath her fingertips. “How unfortunate. Perhaps you simply need to give yourself over to the experience. You might find you enjoy it.”
Oh, what nerve! She opened her mouth to reply, then stubbornly shut it again. She would not let him provoke her into causing a scene. She would not. Besides, it was time he realized he didn’t get to have everything his way. Pursing her lips, she deliberately shifted her gaze to the weave of his impeccably tailored jacket and tried to pretend the rest of him didn’t exist.
To her surprise, rather than making another outrageous comment, he actually fell silent. At first she was grateful…until it dawned on her that with the cessation of conversation between them, she was growing increasingly conscious of other things.
Like the hardness of the thigh brushing hers. And the size of the hand now pressed firmly to the base of her spine. Then there was his scent, all dark starry nights and cool desert breezes. Not to mention the warmth that radiated seductively from his powerful body.
Suddenly, she felt…funny. Hot, cold, short of breath and shivery. Alarmed, she tried to pull away, but it was not to be. Instead of letting her go, the sheikh gathered her even closer.
“Princess?”
She felt his heartbeat against her breast, and the funny feeling grew worse. “What?”
“Relax. You’re far too lovely to be so unyielding. And far too intelligent not to accept that sometimes the best things in life are those we initially resist.”
It was too much. She jerked her head up to stare at him. “I suppose you include yourself in the category of ‘best things’?”
He smiled. “Since you see fit to mention it, yes.”
“Oh, my. And here I’ve always believed conceit wasn’t a virtue but a vice.”
He made a tsking sound. “Such a sharp tongue, little one. But then, the past weeks can’t have been easy. Tell me, does it bother you that much to be passed over as Altaria’s ruler?”
Well, really! “Of course not. I’ve known all my life that women are excluded from inheriting the throne. What’s more, Daniel will be an excellent king. He has a very American sense of responsibility and a fresh way of thinking that should be good for the country.”
To her surprise, he actually appeared to consider her words. “I agree.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I’ve had occasion to do business with the Connelly Corporation in the past, and found your cousin to be a very resourceful man. Still, it’s not Daniel who concerns me, but you. It’s never easy to lose a parent. Even a disappointing one.”
Wonderful. And just when she thought he might have some redeeming qualities after all. “That’s hardly any of your business.” Particularly in light of the second part of the Connelly investigator’s report, which had revealed that her father died owing considerable amounts of money due to extensive gambling. The now familiar shame pressed her, but she thrust it away. She had no intention of discussing her father’s shortcomings with the sheikh, never mind her failures as a daughter.
He didn’t seem to notice the chill in her voice, however. “My own father passed away some seven months ago. I was never the son he wanted, just as he was never the father I needed. Yet it was still hard to lose him.”
“Oh.” Suddenly confused, she set her own concerns aside, wondering again if she’d misjudged him—and why he would say something so revealing. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Typically, he’s managed to complicate my life even now.”
“In what way?”
“It seems if I’m to inherit, I must marry.”
She was so startled by the disclosure that for a moment she couldn’t think what to say. “How…how unpleasant for you.”
“Not really. It’s been a challenge, but I’ve finally settled on a wife.”
Her budding sympathy evaporated at the complacency in his voice. “I’m certain she’s thrilled,” she said tartly.
Incredibly, he laughed, a low, husky chuckle that turned several female heads their way and had an odd effect on the strength of her knees. “Perhaps not yet, but she will be.” He looked down at her, his eyes gleaming with good humor…and something else.
It took her a moment to identify what she was seeing. And then it hit her.
Possessiveness.
Her breath lodged in her throat as she was struck by a terrible suspicion. In the next instant she found herself reviewing everything that had just passed between them—his sudden attention, his insistence they dance, that surprising revelation about his father. And for the first time she let herself wonder just what was prompting his uncharacteristic behavior. It couldn’t possibly be because she was the future wife he’d “settled” on. Could it?
Of course not. The very idea was ludicrous. Not only didn’t she care for him, she barely knew him, any more than he knew her. And yet, why else would he be looking at her as if she were a prime piece of real estate he’d decided to acquire?
The waltz ended. Determined to make an escape, she looked around, relief flooding her as she spied her cousin, the king, standing alone a few feet away.
“Daniel!” Forcing a smile to her lips, she took a step back the instant Kaj loosened his grip and hastened to her cousin’s side, linking her arm with his. “What luck to find you!”
Clearly startled, Daniel tore his attention from his wife, who was threading her way through the crowd, apparently headed for the powder room, and turned to look at her. “Catherine. Is everything all right?” Concern lit his jade-green eyes.
“Yes, yes, of course. It’s simply that I was dancing, and then I saw you and realized I’d forgotten to tell you I talked to your mother earlier and she’d like me to visit Chicago soon since Alexandra has asked me to be one of her bridesmaids.”
A frown knit her relation’s sandy eyebrows. Catherine felt an embarrassed flush rise to her cheeks since she was fairly certain his distress was caused by her rapid-fire statement, rather than the reminder of his sister’s recent engagement to Connelly Corporation executive Robert Marsh.
But all he said was, “I see.” Before he could comment further, he caught sight of Kaj, his frown disappearing as a welcoming smile lit his face. “Al bin Russard. How nice to see you again.”
“Your Majesty.”
“I take it you’re the one responsible for my cousin’s rather breathless state?”
“I believe I am,” Kaj said easily.
To Catherine’s disbelief, the two exchanged one of those men-of-the-world looks she always found totally irritating. She drew herself up, gathering what was left of her dignity around her like a cloak. “I really do need to talk to you, Daniel.”
“Right.” With an apologetic smile for the other man, he said, “If you’ll excuse us, then?”
Just as Catherine had hoped, Kaj had no choice but to take his leave. With impeccable manners, he tendered the pair of them a bow. “Of course, Your Highness.” He shifted his gaze to Catherine. “Princess, thank you for the dance. I look forward to seeing you again.”
Not if she could help it, Catherine vowed. With a flick of her head, she turned her back, dismissing him. Sheikh Kaj al bin Russard might not know it yet, but as of this moment she had every intention of excluding him from her life like the unwelcome intruder he was.
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