The Sheikh's Last Mistress. Rachael Thomas

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The Sheikh's Last Mistress - Rachael Thomas


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harem of beautiful women.

      ‘With such a gorgeous suite, how could I not be?’ She couldn’t look directly at him as heat infused her cheeks.

      When she did glance his way, it was to see his lips lifting upwards in a smile, one that sent a spark of amusement to his dark eyes. It was the first time she’d seen anything other than a severe or commanding expression on his face. It was also a smile that would melt hearts, hers included if the heady beat of her pulse was anything to go by.

      ‘I appreciate the effort you made today.’ She frowned at him, not sure what he was referring to. ‘You dressed to fit in with my culture and so this evening I wanted to show you a sample of life in the desert.’

      ‘Thank you.’ She forced the words out, totally taken aback by his thoughtfulness. Not at all what she would have expected from the man who had all but demanded she come to his country or the man who’d stood in his office just hours ago, an aura of power surrounding him.

      ‘I only regret I could not have shown you the real desert.’

      ‘This is lovely,’ she said as she walked into the tent. The warm night air played with the pale gold curtains and candles glowed within ornate lanterns, lending a romantic ambience to the setting.

      Should she be worried by this gesture? She glanced anxiously at the man she knew very little about—she had placed herself at his mercy, thousands of miles from home. Who was she trying to fool? This was a desert king. A man whose life was so different from hers he would never think inappropriately of someone like her and the sooner she got that idea fixed in her head the better.

      ‘Does it not please you?’ A hint of a feral growl sounded in his voice and she realised her silence had cast doubt on her appreciation of all he’d done.

      ‘It’s perfect. Utterly beautiful.’

      * * *

      Zafir watched as Destiny, wearing loose-fitting white trousers and a long top, looked around. The pale pink scarf she wore on her head made her appear as delicate as a bloom in his prized gardens. She took in every detail and he found himself wishing they were in the middle of the desert, far away from anyone and, even more importantly, his duty. Not that family duty and honour were a trait she understood if the tension between her and her stepmother were anything to go by. She was here under duress and she’d clearly stated her terms, but that didn’t stop the sizzle of desire which flowed through him like the river his city was built around.

      He wanted to tell her she was more beautiful than anything around them, but he hadn’t brought her here to seduce her. This was his palace, his home and he’d never entertained any woman here, even throughout his wild playboy days. He also needed to remind himself of the marriage he had to make. This was a woman he couldn’t afford to be distracted by for so many reasons.

      ‘I’m pleased you approve.’ He kept his voice as neutral as possible in an attempt to hide the effect she was having on him.

      ‘I’m also looking forward to seeing your stallion tomorrow.’ She glanced at him and he saw the apprehension on her face before she spoke again. ‘I do need to know more of the incident.’

      ‘By “incident” you mean the night my sister rode him out into the desert and met with her untimely death?’ This was the last thing he wanted to talk about. All the guilt from that night rushed back at him. He would have to share a certain amount of information with Destiny, but he wasn’t ready yet to reveal everything.

      ‘If I am to help the horse then I am afraid I need to know.’

      The sympathy on her face only made his guilt worse. She must think he was so heartbroken after the loss of his sister that he couldn’t talk about it. Nothing could be further from the truth and nothing would make him admit the guilt he harboured.

      ‘First we eat,’ he said as his servants arrived with their meal. He gestured to the table, set with his colours, the same bright purple and gold that would adorn his private tent when he spent time in the desert, something he did several times a year.

      She smiled at him and he could see his brusque tone had unsettled her, but it was necessary. Duty meant he could never let his emotions influence any decision he made. Duty also meant he could never have needs himself. It was always at the forefront of everything he did, just as it had been when he’d arranged Tabinah’s marriage, resisting her pleas for him to reconsider.

      ‘This is not what I expected to be doing this evening,’ she said as she settled herself on the cushions around the low table. The excitement on her face made her skin glow and her eyes sparkle. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Just as when he’d first met her, she appeared totally unaware of her beauty, almost as if she was intent on hiding or remaining out of the spotlight.

      ‘What did you expect? That I would banish you to your room and lock you up unless you were working with Majeed?’ Although it was meant in jest, he was shocked to see her cheeks flush with colour.

      ‘No, not that,’ she said softly, a hint of nerves in her voice. ‘I just didn’t expect such special treatment or the effort you’ve gone to.’

      ‘You are here as my guest, Destiny.’ It was the first time he’d used her name in conversation and it all but sizzled on his tongue and a spark of lust hurtled through him. ‘I like to show all my guests what my kingdom and its people can offer.’

      He had to add that, had to try and refocus his attention away from the way she was making him feel as she sat opposite him, her partially visible dark hair gleaming in the light from the lanterns and looking so soft he wanted to touch it, to feel its silkiness and slide it through his fingers as his lips claimed hers.

      What was he thinking? He should not be entertaining such thoughts. Not just because she was here to do a job, or even because she was a woman from a different culture. He could never think about any woman that way, not even the woman he was soon to select as his bride.

      ‘I am here to do a job.’ Her words were stronger, confidence filling them as they had done the first time he’d met her. ‘And to do that I need to know about certain events.’

      He waited whilst his servants cleared the table and watched her face fill with delight and disbelief as an array of desserts were placed between them. As the servants quietly withdrew he wished Destiny was here as his guest, wished that he didn’t have to reveal anything about the night Tabinah died. Inexplicably, it mattered what this woman thought of him.

      ‘Tabinah was unhappy with the man I had chosen for her to marry. It was a marriage of duty on both sides, uniting two wealthy and powerful families. Unfortunately, Tabinah didn’t share my view on duty. She wanted nothing but her freedom.’

      ‘Her freedom?’ Destiny’s brows drew together as she tried to process the information, confusion clear on her face.

      ‘She claimed to be in love with another man, one totally unsuitable for the sister of the Sheikh of Kezoban.’ His words were dry and monotone. It was the first time he’d told anyone that his young sister had declared her love for a man other than the one she was engaged to. He knew it was talked of within the palace. He was no fool. He’d heard the whispered speculations. He’d just never admitted it to anyone before.

      ‘I’m sorry.’ She lowered her lashes, obviously embarrassed to look at him.

      ‘It is of no consequence. Many arranged marriages do not contain any love at all,’ he stated flatly as he wiped his fingers and signalled for the remains of their meal to be cleared.

      ‘It is sad.’ She looked directly at him and he had the distinct impression she was challenging him. How, he wasn’t yet sure. ‘Everybody needs love.’

      ‘Have you ever been in love, Destiny?’ He narrowed his eyes as anger simmered beneath his cool composure. So she believed in love and probably believed in fairy tales where everyone lived happily ever after. He, however, believed in real life.

      ‘I have love in my life, yes.’ The defensive tone of her voice goaded him


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