Beauty and the Sheikh (20 page)

“This is ridiculous.” Her hands balled into fists, as if she were trying to restrain herself. “I was never in any danger.”

“That has yet to be established.”

“You can’t punish him for what I’ve done.”

Rafiq sighed. He really didn’t want to have this conversation with her. There were lines his employees didn’t cross, and the man guarding Holly had crossed a big one. “He broke my trust, Holly. He must be dealt with.”

“Dealt with? Do you even know his name, Rafiq?”

His brows drew together as he stared at her growing agitation. “I can’t remember it at the moment, but does it matter?”

“Yes! His name is Mahdi. He has a wife and children. If you fire him—”

“Do not begin to tell me how to run my country.” Finished with this conversation, his tone held enough icy warning to make her draw back against the seat.

But it didn’t keep her silent. “Somehow, these past few weeks I’d thought you’d changed, Rafiq.”

“You should be careful with your presumptions.” He flashed her a hard smile. “I demand a certain level of accountability from my employees, Holly. Even more so from my lovers.” 

She shook her head slowly as her lips compressed. 

The limo arrived back at the palace and she was out the door before he could move. He followed her into the palace, but her brisk pace clearly indicated she wanted nothing more to do with him or this conversation. 

What did she expect, though? She’d put her safety at risk. Surely she could understand why he would be upset now?

Rafiq strode through the palace after her, ignoring the startled glances of his staff as they retreated back into the shadows. His hands curled into fists as he bit back a growl of frustration. 

Once in the room, he slammed the door behind him. “Don’t walk away from me.”

She ignored him and quickened her stride toward the bathroom, but he beat her there, catching her arm and swinging her back around.

“Holly—”

 “I thought you would be happy I was learning your language.” There were tears in her eyes as she thumped his chest with her fist. “I thought you’d changed. I have no idea who you are right now.”

His heart twisted and all his anger fled. “You know who I am,
habiba
.”

“You’re not the man I fell in love with,” she choked out.

The silence that fell over the room was so sudden and thick—only broken by the furious pounding of Rafiq’s heart.

Holly’s words seemed to resound in the room. Spreading joy and a sharp, poignant fear.

She loved him. 

“I shouldn’t have said that,” she whispered, lifting her hands to her mouth. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Rafiq pulled her to him, his hands not quite steady, and lowered his mouth just above hers. “Please,
habiba
, don’t regret those words.”

He claimed her mouth before she could reply, and Holly let out a soft moan as she clung to him. 

Needing her more than ever before, Rafiq led her to the bed. “I should have trusted you, Holly.”

Her lashes fluttered down, once again hiding the pain there. “Yes, you should have.”

“I’m so sorry. I think I wanted a reason to believe you weren’t so damn perfect, a reason to push you away.” His voice grew hoarse. “But I can’t. I need you. I need you so much.”

She didn’t reply but reached for him, pulling him down to her again. He took his time undressing her, lingering on every inch of flesh he exposed. 

Rafiq couldn’t be rushed in making love to her. He teased her breasts, molding them in his hands before taking the pink tips in his mouth. Holly writhed beneath him, her pleas for more encouraging him to seek the slick folds of her sex with his fingers.

Rafiq brought her to the edge, not rushing his slow, deliberate strokes that ultimately brought her pleasure.

Finally he eased into her, taking her. Joining her. And even then there was an urgency, almost desperation to their lovemaking.

Only afterward, when she lay curled in his arms so vulnerable and sweet, did all the fears her declaration brought out rise once more. And this time, there would be no distracting him from their unsettling grip.

The dinner party was a blur of introductions and conversation. Holly knew she had a silly smile on her face, and she really couldn’t bring herself to care. She was still floating from Rafiq’s confession that he needed her and then the tender way he’d made love to her after. 

With her spirits raised and her constant smile, she felt more beautiful in the gown she wore tonight than any exclusive dress she’d ever modeled. Not that this gown wasn’t expensive, but its quality and simplicity made her feel like a princess. 

It was a cross between western and eastern attire. Layers of aqua chiffon did not hide her figure but revealed very little skin. It was the perfect fit for tonight’s dinner. 

Her attempts at speaking Arabic had been greeted with enthusiasm and respect. If anything, it had made Rafiq’s friends and associates warm to her even more.

Throughout the dinner Rafiq would glance her way, and the smoldering intensity in his eyes would send a flush from her ears to her toes.

She’d told him she loved him tonight, and he hadn’t running screaming from the room. No, instead he’d made love to her so painstakingly slow and thoroughly she couldn’t quite convince herself this time that he didn’t care.

Rafiq did care. It showed in everything he did. The way he watched her, made love to her, held her at night. And it also made sense why he’d come down so harshly on Mahdi—who he’d ultimately promised her would not lose his position.

“If you’ll excuse me.” Holly stood from the table and strode from the exquisite dining hall to retrieve a shawl from Rafiq’s room. The air conditioning had kicked in, sending a chill through her.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

The accented voice, spoken in English, and snide words brought Holly to a halt. 

She turned to find a petite woman approaching with a look dripping with disdain. 

Wariness slid through her. This likely would not be a pleasant conversation. She recognized the other woman as one of the wives who’d been placed near the end of the table and struggled to remember her name.

Ah, yes
. “Thank you, Mrs. Albujar, I am. And are you enjoying the dinner?”

“It would be better if certain people were not in attendance.” The other woman slid a disapproving glance over her. “So, I finally have the opportunity to meet the Sheikh’s newest mistress.”

Holly flinched at the word, but kept a smile on her face. “I find the word ‘mistress’ entirely outdated.” 

“Hmm. Perhaps you’re right. Maybe you would find the term ‘whore’ more suited?”

The breath ripped from her throat at the blatant, vicious verbal assault, but the other woman wasn’t finished.

“You know, in my culture it is custom for a woman to remain pure. So that her husband will enjoy a virgin on their wedding night.” 

Holly felt the heat stealing into her cheeks. The guards in the hallway must have been able to hear the conversation, though they showed no indication they listened. It would’ve been so easy to inform the woman she’d been a virgin until Rafiq, but that would only bring humiliation upon herself. 

And the woman was right, in a manner. She’d been Rafiq’s virgin mistress, but would never be his virgin wife.

“You do realize Rafiq can never marry a westerner such as yourself,” Mrs. Albujar mocked. “Quite soon, I imagine, he will settle with my daughter, Nuha. Perhaps you saw her in Monaco, speaking with the Sheikh?”

The memory of Rafiq speaking to the young Arabic woman in Monaco flitted through her head, making her stomach clench. 

“Did he buy you that diamond necklace?” the woman continued. “It will be a nice souvenir when you leave.”

It took everything within her not to reach up and touch the large diamond Rafiq had placed around her neck before the dinner.

Oh God, she was going to be sick. “I must go,” she whispered, and tried to step around Mrs. Albujar.

When the woman made to block her, one of the guards stepped in.

“Allow Miss Winchester to pass.”

Grateful for the intervention, Holly darted down the hall to Rafiq’s room and then closed the door behind her. Tears burned her eyes as she drew in a ragged breath, crossing to the lush settee in the middle of the room to sink down onto it.

Before that horrid woman had come along, tonight had been almost magical. Now she felt like a cheap imposter playing dress up.

Mistress. Rafiq’s mistress.

She wanted to believe the other woman was wrong—that her words had been nothing but a jealous mother who hoped her daughter would catch herself a Sheikh husband. But what if she wasn’t? 

Chapter 17

Holly wasn’t aware of how much time had passed but glanced up, disoriented, when the door opened.

Rafiq strode into the room, his brows drawn together in concern. “Holly, are you all right? One of the guards informed me you were upset.”

“I…I don’t really know.”

He crouched down beside her. “What is it,
habiba
?”

She closed her eyes.
You need to know the truth
. “What am I to you?”

There was a pause. 

“I don’t understand what you’re asking,” he said warily. “Please, come back to the dinner. People are beginning to wonder where you’ve disappeared to.”

“This afternoon I told you I
loved
you, Rafiq.” She opened her eyes again just in time to see him flinch.

“Holly…”

“I know you said you needed me, but do you love me?” 

Silence, so heavy and painful, and an answer in itself. A cry of anguish built in her throat, but she swallowed it, just barely. “I see. It doesn’t matter.” She hated that her voice broke. 

“Holly, please, we should discuss this later—”

“I don’t suppose it ever mattered, when the bottom line is you must marry a woman of your culture.”

“I am the Sheikh of Raljahar. I can marry whoever I damn well please.”

Holly froze at his tease words and their context. “I don’t understand,” she said cautiously. “You can marry whomever you want? But all this time you led me to believe—”

“I never led you to believe anything but the truth.”

“And what
is
the truth, Rafiq? Because I confess that at this point, I have no idea.”

“The truth is I will never marry you.” 

His harsh words hurt more than if he’d slapped her. She made a soft gurgle of dismay, knowing her face must reflect the horror and humiliation. 

He stopped pacing and turned to face her. His face was scrunched up, his mouth tight, with pain. It seemed each word hurt him equally. “I didn’t want to have this conversation now, Holly.” He cursed and moved away from her, his long strides eating up the room as he walked. “I can never marry for love.”

His words hit like tiny knives into her soul, even as part of her wanted to grasp at the word love. He’d used the word love. Could that mean he
did
love her?

“My uncle may be dead, but there are still people who would take my Sheikhdom by force if needed. Now more than ever.”

She shook her head. “How does that have anything to do with me?”

“Because they will use you, Holly. Just as they used my mother.” He returned to her, sinking down on the settee and fumbling to grasp her hands. His words held so much meaning. Insistence. 

She wanted to understand—needed to understand—because there was so much she was missing. “Rafiq—”

“My mother meant the world to my father, and my uncle used that against him.” Rafiq’s fingers tightened around hers. “My father was so blind with love, she was his only concern. He let this country fall apart and ultimately didn’t see the trap my uncle set. My uncle threatened my mother’s life and my father tried to save her. In the end it didn’t matter—both my parents were killed.”

“And you nearly were.” Some of the pieces fell into place.

“I will
not
have you used against me. I will not place your life at risk.” Rafiq’s expression was almost pleading, a bit desperate, as if he were trying to convince himself as much as her.

He did love her, she didn’t doubt it for a moment now, but unfortunately the one emotion she’d craved from him also destroyed any hope of a future between them.

A loud knock sounded on the door. Rafiq blinked, his gaze refocusing. That solid control he wore like a cloak slipped back into place.

He released her hands and then stood. “That is probably my advisor wondering where we are. We should return to the party, Holly. We have guests awaiting our return.”

Of course. Back to the pretense she was nothing but his woman of the month. Oh, right, but it wasn’t a pretense. 

A sad smile twisted her mouth. “Give them my apologies, but please let them know I don’t feel well and won’t be returning.”

Rafiq hesitated, looking genuinely confused. “Holly, what happened during the dinner? You seemed quite happy earlier.”

Earlier she’d been functioning in a dream world that didn’t really exist. “I woke up,” she murmured simply. 

He didn’t respond, but gave a frustrated sigh. “I will return shortly.” 

But
shortly
didn’t come until well after one in the morning. 

Rafiq scrubbed a hand down his face, exhaustion eating at every inch of his body. He glanced once more around the empty dining hall and then headed toward his room. Part of him dreaded facing Holly again, though he assumed she would be asleep by now.

How could she not, after such an emotionally trying day? He hadn’t intended to purge all his past and fears upon her, but they’d surfaced anyway. 

Perhaps it was better they had. Now there would be no more disillusions between them, no expectations. She’d said she loved him, but what if she was just confused because he’d been her first lover?

She would move on some day and forget him, but for now they could still live as lovers. That had to be enough. Everything within him wanted to crawl into bed and pull her into his arms.

He would make her forget their conversation earlier, erase the line on her forehead that displayed her unhappiness.