Beauty and the Sheikh (2 page)

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Authors: Shelli Stevens

BOOK: Beauty and the Sheikh
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How quickly he dropped the casualness of calling her Holly. Even still, her name on his lips sounded so foreign, almost exotic with his accent. Her stomach fluttered again and she bit her lip trying to quell it.

Remember why you’re here.

Holly cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “Rafiq, I’ve come to—”

The guard behind her made a roar of anger, and gripped her shoulder almost painfully. “You will address the Sheikh as
Your Majesty
.”

 “Your Majesty,” she choked out, trying to pull away from the brute of a bodyguard’s grip. She’d forgotten about their presence entirely.

Rafiq snarled something harsh at the guard, and Holly found herself abruptly released. She stumbled forward, nearly toppling into him. Her relief was short lived as Rafiq’s fingers—though much gentler than the guard’s—curled around her shoulders. A shock of energy seemed to pass from his fingers into her body, and a gasp of surprise fluttered past her lips as her pulse quickened. 

Almost two years later, and still his touch could do this to her? Impossible. It had to be the fear, or the adrenaline.

She lifted her head once more, and their gazes locked. Had he sensed it too? Some of the shock she felt was mirrored in his eyes, but his mingled with irritation. Holly couldn’t have looked away from him if she tried. 

He spoke harshly again to his bodyguards, to which they stammered replies. And then the rushing of footsteps sounded, followed by the door closing.

The realization they were alone sent a frisson of panic through her. Alone with the Sheikh. 

“What did you say to them?” She hated that her question came out husky and far too vulnerable.

“I asked if they’d searched you for weapons.” A semblance of a smile flickered on his lips, but it held no humor. “Beneath your burka, there is ample…space for you to hide a weapon.”

It was clear he’d been tempted to say something different after ample. The possibility, combined with the memory of the guards’ search, sent hot color searing her cheeks. “You know they did. It was barbaric, the way—”

“More barbaric than you forcing your way into my palace,
habiba
?” His tone cooled. 

Don’t even focus on the endearment he called you, it means nothing.

“It wasn’t my intention to break in, and I tried by normal means to get access. It’s vitally important that I see you—”

“Why? Have you returned with another request to strut around my desert in a bikini for a photo shoot?” 

Furious heat slammed into her cheeks at his cool, derisive words. What a jerk. He’d always been on the cocky side, though. How had she ever found him charming?
All too easily, if you recall.

Holly drew in a deliberate breath in an effort to control her emotions. “I’m no longer modeling.” She lifted her head to meet his gaze again, then wished she hadn’t as she stared into his emotionless eyes. 

“Yes,” he murmured, “I’m well aware your modeling days are through.”

Of course he was. He must’ve known that the day he’d sent her away, everything changed and the tabloids had used her as fodder for months—it was one of the reasons she’d ultimately left the industry a year later. 

Holly swallowed against the knot in her throat, but she knew she didn’t mourn the loss of her career so much as the way things had ended between her and Rafiq. “Why did you have to pull off my veil?” 

God, had she actually muttered the words aloud? Holly bit back a groan as his lips twitched. 

But they were the truth. Rafiq would’ve never known it was her if he hadn’t removed the veil. Prior to flying out from Portland, she’d purchased the attire for that reason alone—she’d hoped to remain an unknown face and voice.

Again, someone really ought to give her the prize for being the most naïve. 

“Holly, I’m afraid your attempts at blending in were quite deficient.” Amusement laced his tone. “Had you paid more attention the last time you were here, you would’ve realized most of the women in Raljahar no longer favor the burka as a means of dress. A long shirt and skirt would’ve been less suspect.”

He was right—of course she could see that in hindsight. 

“I wasn’t sure what would be acceptable to wear,” she admitted grudgingly, “and I didn’t want to offend anyone by arriving in jeans and a tank top.”

Something hot and dark flickered in his gaze as his fingers traced lightly over the flesh of her shoulders. 

Holly’s pulse fluttered. Why didn’t he remove his hands from her? They unbalanced her, made her hyperaware of the power this man held. He had the ability to crush someone, probably physically as well as figuratively. His words, as well, could crush. She’d had firsthand experience of the fact.

“I wonder if it was your purpose to not offend, Holly, or simply a tactic to disguise your identity.” 

Her cheeks warmed with guilt. “Why would I disguise myself from you?”

“Perhaps you should tell me.” 

His silky words sent another hot shiver through her and she swallowed hard. She’d promised herself that this time she wouldn’t let him affect her and this time there would be no weak knees, butterflies in the stomach, or a racing pulse. 

But her attempts at emotionally bracing herself against seeing Rafiq again had been ridiculously inept, because she was just as susceptible to him today as she’d been two years ago. 

Unwittingly she flashed back to her first trip to Raljahar and when she’d first realized how quickly she was falling for the Sheikh. He’d charmed her.
Oh, God,
how he’d charmed her. That first day they’d talked for hours over a long, wonderfully decadent lunch. He’d made her laugh and turned her stomach into a playground for butterflies. 

And then he’d kissed her on the tour of the palace, in his room, and she’d melted. Her entire body had awakened to a sensuality and need she’d never experienced or explored.  

Soon, the light flirting and long glances escalated into deep kisses and passionate embraces in the shadows. And then, dinner in the exclusive restaurant in his casino…

“Would you like to go downstairs and play any of the card tables,
habiba
?” he’d asked.

“I’m not much of a gambler,” she’d confessed.
Except with my heart
.

The night had been so perfect, with their private room and delicious food served by candlelight. And the way Rafiq found reasons to touch her—stroke her hand or push a strand of hair behind her ear—never failed to send her pulse into overdrive.

He’d leaned down to kiss her, exquisitely gentle in a way that left her body heated and her heart pounding. “Come away with me—I have a vacation home in the French Riviera where we could be alone.”

She knew what he asked and saw no reason to pretend otherwise. “But what about everybody else?”

“I have no desire to make love to your manager or photographer,
habiba
. Only you,” he’d teased, his gaze smoldering.

She’d laughed softly, even though she’d been so out of her league, and so thoroughly tempted.

“Consider it, Holly. I have meetings over the next few days about the logistics of a possible photo shoot, but we could spend the weekend together.” 

And then his mouth had found hers again, more thoroughly this time, making her grateful for the privacy of their room within the restaurant.

“No answer, Holly?”

Holly blinked, snapping out of the memory. What were they talking about again? Oh, yes, he was accusing her of sneaking into his palace under disguise.

“I don’t think I should have to answer such a ridiculous accusation.”

Even if he’d been justified in making it.

Holly recoiled instinctively as the hostility in his expression increased. 

As he glared down at her with a face that could make even the strongest of men cringe, she could understand why the tabloids loved to paint a frightening picture of the Sheikh. Even if it was rare they’d capture him on film. 

Still, Sheikh Rafiq Hakimi was almost larger than life itself. Intimidating. Powerful. Frightening with the constant scowl and jagged scar that ran from his cheek to his neck, only to disappear beneath his robes. Combine that with his temper, and it was no wonder people often feared him. 

And tonight, knowing she came to beg for a favor from the man who hated her, Holly realized she was no exception.

Chapter 2

 

Rafiq watched the flicker of emotions on Holly’s face and cursed himself for not being able to let her go. There was no threat, no reason to keep his fingers curled around the delicate curve of her shoulder. Except touching her was like breathing air he’d long been denied. 

The soft scent of her perfume, subtle and light, caressed his senses. It was the same one she’d worn two years ago, and just the smell of it sent memories careening into him like a deadly sandstorm.

How was it possible to have missed something he’d never really had? How could he possibly still want this woman? 

Her tongue darted out, traced over the lush mouth he’d once had the pleasure of claiming. His groin tightened and he bit back a groan. Would he find her body unchanged beneath the burka? Would it still be as flawless as the face he now gazed upon? 

“You have yet to explain to me why you’ve come to Raljahar, Holly.”

The steel in his tone did little to intimidate her as defiance flickered in her eyes. It was one thing that had initially intrigued him about her. Holly had never recoiled from his appearance, had not been intimidated by him at all in their first meeting. 

“Raljahar is a worldwide tourist destination. Americans are often inclined to visit just as much as those on this continent,
Your Majesty
.” 

Amusement warred with irritation that she seemed to resent calling him by his title. Did she not even realize how fortunate she was to have gained a personal audience with him? It was rare even citizens of his country received this opportunity. Had he not intervened, she’d be sitting in a jail cell at this moment, awaiting a trial. “So you’re telling me you’ve come on holiday?”

“Of course not.” Her eyes rounded in horror. She shook her head, her cheeks tingeing a beguiling pink as her tongue swept across her mouth again. “I would never… My journey to Raljahar isn’t for my benefit.”

Warning bells rang in his head. “Then whose benefit is it for?” 

She swallowed hard and lifted her chin, desperation and naked agony in her gaze. “Andrew Gray. He’s in your prison, and I’m here to beg you to release him.” She choked on the last word. “
Please
, he’s all I have, Ra—Your Majesty.”

Rafiq’s world spun out of focus as her words echoed in his head. His heart thumped painfully against his chest and everything inside him clenched with shock. She came here to beg for her lover’s release? The idea of Holly with another man—let alone begging Rafiq to help him—made something dark and resentful build inside him.

With a growl, he reached down and caught her hand, abruptly pulling up the sleeves of the black garment. Holly gasped, attempting to tug her soft fingers away, but he tightened his hold as he searched her fingers again, looking for the ring that perhaps he’d missed initially.

“What are you—”

“You dare come to beg for the release of your lover?” 

“N-no.” Understanding dawned in her eyes and she shook her head. “Andrew’s not my lover. He’s my brother.”

Rafiq stilled and some of the tension eased, but he wasn’t certain he believed her. Perhaps she would say anything at this rate to save the man. “Your brother? Then why do you not share the same family name?”

“Winchester was an alias chosen for my modeling career. I ultimately changed it legally.” 

“And Holly?”

“Is my real name.”

The fury that had consumed him faded away almost completely. He was inclined to believe her, and all he needed to do was give the word and he could have her story confirmed. Without a doubt he would see it done, would find out if this Andrew was truly not her lover, but her brother. 

“Tell me more about your brother, Holly.” He drew his thumb across the knuckles of her hand, watching as her mouth parted and a shudder racked her body. 

Her gaze slid to his scar, lingering there, and Rafiq’s nostrils flared. His touch and his appearance repulsed her that much, did it? And yet he couldn’t bring himself to release her hand, no matter how unnecessary holding it was. 

There was a fleeting moment in the past where he’d been fooled into believing she enjoyed his touch and had seen beyond his flawed face. Until he’d discovered that not only was the American beauty a top model, but an accomplished actress. 

Holly swallowed visibly and hesitated before answering. “Andrew was arrested last week. He was allegedly caught cheating at a cards table in your casino.”

“Allegedly?” he mocked, his lips curling. How pitifully naïve she was. Or perhaps she just thought him a fool. “Are you calling into question the level of security at my casino?”

“No, will you stop twisting my words?” She jerked her hand from his grasp and stumbled backward. “What I’m saying is my brother would never cheat!” But he saw the flicker of doubt in her eyes, and it was compounded by her next words. “Though if he owes any money, I have brought the funds to pay.”

Watching him, she must’ve realized her words were a mistake, because she lifted a hand to her mouth.

“You think I need your money, Holly?” He asked the question with a chilling softness he knew would intimidate. 

“No, of course not, but the principle of it—”

“Your brother ignored principle when he chose to steal from my casino.”

She flinched and for a moment he saw the tears of desperation in her eyes. “Rafiq, please don’t be so quick to dismiss me. If you have any compassion, you’d consider my request.”

“If I have any compassion?” Rafiq ground out, unable to believe his ears. The words absolutely preposterous coming from her sensual lips after what she’d done to him. “You, Holly, are a fraud to even speak of compassion.”

Anger flashed in her eyes and she opened her mouth, appearing as if she were about to curse him to pieces, but then closed it again. Her hands balled into fists at her side, nearly disappearing into the long sleeves of her burka. Her head bowed. “I’m sorry. I haven’t come here to argue with you, Your Majesty. I’ve come to beg for help.”

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