Claimed by the Sheikh. Rachael Thomas
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and she gasped, her face full of genuine shock. Then she smiled. The smile of a woman who knew how to tease a man. ‘That will make it look all the more real.’
Then the last piece of silk slipped to the floor, leaving her almost naked, and their eyes met. She stood and looked at him, as if daring him to resist her now. He was hardly able to, but taking her now was out of the question. His rage was so strong he knew what could happen and he couldn’t risk that.
‘Put some clothes on,’ he growled, hardly able to contain the anger he felt. In just a few minutes she’d proved herself completely unsuitable as his bride.
A short while later she emerged from the bathroom, her lush body covered by the soft towelling robe. She sat on the bed, her rich coffee eyes meeting his in challenge. ‘The bed will need to look as if we’ve slept together in it.’
‘What?’
She calmly sat there, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, making it harder than ever to resist the call of his lust.
‘The bed,’ she said coldly. ‘If you want this marriage to look as if it has been consummated, it needs to be a mess.’
* * *
Amber watched the man she’d married toss the sheets into disarray and self-preservation kicked in. She wasn’t about to be sent home a disgraced bride, one who was still a virgin. It had to look as if the marriage had been consummated. She couldn’t face her parents otherwise.
If her husband could be as cold and calculating about the marriage they’d entered into out of duty, then so could she. The deal struck by their fathers would be honoured, as long as it looked as if they’d spent the night in the same bed.
Just a few more hours and she could leave. Go as far away as she could. Maybe go places and do things her position as her father’s only daughter and Princess of Quarazmir had never enabled her to do.
Ten months later
HE’D FOUND HER.
Prince Kazim Al Amed of Barazbin had found her.
Amber watched as he made his way across the Parisian club, striding between the tables, scanning the dancers. Even in the dim light she could see the contempt on his face and the seductive beat of the music hardly slowed his pace. If anything, it increased it.
Rooted to the spot, she couldn’t move. She didn’t want to watch him but couldn’t stop herself. Every step he took radiated command, accentuating the raw masculine power that served only to highlight his untamed nature. His tanned complexion, glossy black hair and expensive suit made him stand out against the club’s regular clientele, and she certainly wasn’t the only person to have noticed him.
A tremor of nerves, mixing with the same attraction she’d felt when they’d first met, raced through her. She clutched the tray of glasses she’d been collecting even tighter, desperate to stop them clinking together. For almost a year she’d dreamt he’d seek her out and declare his love but, from the look on his face, she knew such hopes were futile.
He had never loved her and she dreaded his reason for being here. She wasn’t sure she could take another brutal rejection from the man she’d loved once with such adoration. He had been her dream come true. The only man she had ever loved.
Thankful the sultry lighting in the club would enable her to slip away virtually unnoticed, she put down the tray and, without taking her eyes from his tall body, moved backwards into the shadows. The music thumped as wildly as her heart when she saw him pause, his brow furrowed into a suspicious frown as he stood rigid and tall. His eyes rested briefly on her and she couldn’t help but hold his gaze.
Kazim took one step towards her and she thought the game was up. Then he looked around the club once more and relief washed over her. He hadn’t recognised her. She should be glad, but a dart of pain stabbed at her.
Just when she thought she could breathe again, his gaze returned once more to her, this time with unnerving accuracy. He took another step towards her, oblivious to the customers and waitresses trying to pass him, his piercing gaze not leaving her face. Judging by the tight line of his lips and the firmness of his jaw, he knew it was her and wasn’t pleased.
Amber’s hands shot up to her hair, checking the blonde, pink-streaked wig she used at work was in place. Surely he hadn’t recognised her like this—had he? But she wasn’t about to take any chances. She wasn’t ready to face him yet—not here, not like this. She needed time to compose herself, time to put aside all the dreams he’d shattered.
Kazim looked once more at the dancers then back at her. The distance between them suddenly closed, even though neither had moved, and she felt his suspicion and shock with every nerve in her body. She had to go. Right now.
Quickly, she moved between the customers, seeing only the door to the dressing rooms. The door to sanctuary and, hopefully, escape. She couldn’t face him yet. She needed time to find her strength.
She pushed open the heavy door, rushing along the narrow corridor towards the dressing rooms, her eyes blinking against the bright lights. Her heart pounded; she couldn’t believe he was here, not after his cruel words to her that one and only night they’d spent together.
‘Amber.’ His accented voice rang with command, leaving her in no doubt that he had recognised her.
She froze. Her name on his lips, so full of authority, she didn’t dare move. She couldn’t even turn around. Her heart galloped faster than a racehorse as she heard his footsteps behind her on the tiled floor, coming closer, until a shiver of something she refused to acknowledge ran down her spine. How could he still have that effect on her?
The door to the club closed, muffling the beat of the music, and all she could hear was the tap of expensive leather shoes on the tiled floor. Then silence. She knew he stood almost right behind her. She could feel him, her whole body aware of his, but still she couldn’t turn.
Finally her feet were able to move and she hurried on towards the dressing rooms, not looking back. She didn’t dare. One look at him would unleash all the memories of her spoiled dreams. Dreams he had crushed.
‘You can run, Amber, but you can’t hide.’ The undercurrent of steel in his voice made her stop just as she reached the dressing room door. Slowly she turned, knowing the time had come, whether she liked it or not—this was the moment she’d dreaded for almost a year.
It was time to face her past.
‘I’m not running.’ The words rushed out boldly as she looked into his face. She surprised herself with the courage in them.
As Amber looked at Kazim she lifted her chin and pushed her shoulders back. He’d changed. He was still undeniably handsome, but different. She watched him take a few more paces towards her. The severe fluorescent light of the narrow corridor highlighted the angles of his face, the slant of his cheekbones and the firm set of his lips. She had to hold her ground now. She couldn’t let him see how unnerved she was. ‘Neither am I trying to hide, Kazim.’
‘I don’t think you can do much hiding in that ridiculous thing.’ His black eyes blazed with fury as he looked at her wig.
She couldn’t help herself and reached up again to touch it. ‘Part of the job,’ she said flippantly as he came to stand directly in front of her and way too close. His annoyance at the wig pleased her, fuelling much needed resistance to him.
His gaze snapped back to hers, his contempt washing over her, just as it had done when she’d last seen him. Images replayed frantically in her mind, as clear as if it had all happened last night instead of many months ago.
That night he’d rejected her, rebuffed her clumsy advances and scorned her love. He’d turned her away without a second thought of what it would mean to her, not caring how such a dismissal would affect her. Because of that, she was now a different woman to the one she had been that night. She had