Claimed by the Sheikh (12 page)

‘I wasn't trying to deceive you, Kazim,' she said softly as her gaze lowered, those long lashes covering her eyes, hiding her soul from his scrutiny. But her apology only raised more questions.

‘On our wedding day you tried to be something which I now know you were not. Now I discover you knew of your father's allegiance with the rebels. How can I ever trust you?'

If he could walk away from her at this minute he would. But he couldn't. They were trapped together in this tent and, judging by the sound of the wind outside, they would be for some time yet. Could he turn it to his advantage? Find out the truth about the woman he'd married, once and for all?

* * *

Amber sighed. Did he not trust anything she'd said or done? ‘From day one of our marriage it was doomed. You didn't want to believe me; you only wanted to believe what you saw—or what you thought you saw.'

‘What I saw then and still see now is a woman who was very proficient at weaving a web of lies. The same woman who is unable to deny the facts I've just presented her with. You do not know truth.' His words were slow but firm and she glanced up at his profile, his handsome face drawn into a mask of concentration.

Around them the wind buffeted the tent, seemingly determined to gain entry. Nervously she watched the fabric shifting ominously in the low light from the lanterns. It should be romantic, a time for two lovers to come together and lose themselves from the outside world.

But they were not lovers. What they shared was an undeniable spark of attraction—one that demanded satisfaction and one she was sure would fade in time until it was nothing more than glowing coals amidst a dying fire.

‘I was doing my duty, Kazim. Surely you, of all people, can relate to that?' They had been forced together by the might of the desert and he had to listen to her, had to see why she'd acted as she had. She pressed on before he added anything and distracted her from her mission. ‘It was made very clear to me that, to inherit your father's kingdom, it was of the utmost importance that our marriage went ahead.'

‘That, at least, is true.' He picked up a gold cushion, absently examining the braiding. Anything other than look at her it seemed. ‘I was told much the same. As long as we consummated the marriage it did not matter if we lived together afterwards or not—for a while, at least. That is the only reason I agreed to it.'

‘But you weren't even able to consummate the marriage.' Anger burst to life once more inside her, rushing through her veins so insistently she wanted to get up off the bed and run as far away as possible. She fought the urge with everything she had. ‘Why was that, Kazim? Did you hate me that much?'

‘No!' He rounded on her, furiously throwing the cushion aside. ‘I hated that we were forced to marry. I had a life. I'd built up a successful business. I never wanted to inherit.'

He took a deep breath and looked at her and she waited, biting down on her lip anxiously.

‘I didn't want responsibility either for the people of Barazbin or for you. I didn't want to desire you or make you truly my wife because you represented all that I resented.'

His harsh words hit hard and she blinked in shock. He really did dislike her and certainly hated the fact that they had been forced to marry. As soon as she could she would leave this country, this man, and go back home to Paris.

‘I had no knowledge of what my father was doing,' she pushed on, needing to clear her name, but not wanting to cause any problems for her mother. It wasn't going to be achievable, judging from the look on Kazim's face.

He got up and marched away from her, pacing across the carpet so fast it was as if he would at any moment walk out beyond the tent and into the desert, which she was quickly realising was his mistress.

He turned to her, anger evident in the rigidity of his stance. ‘You should have told me.'

Her eyes widened in shock. This was the last thing she'd expected to hear from him and she could barely stammer out the words. ‘I couldn't...my mother...' she stammered, feeling as if she was losing her footing.

‘Don't try and tell me you didn't know anything about it, that your mother was the one who told you.'

‘I didn't.' Her words were a strangled whisper, his nearness and the shock of his accusation clamping tightly on her throat. He didn't believe anything she said and never had.

The blackness of his eyes darkened and the intensity of his gaze became too much and she moved away from him, walking across the carpet as he had just done. Beneath her feet the sand moved, reminding her just how volatile the peace they'd recently shared actually was.

‘But you still didn't tell me.' It wasn't a question, but a statement. One filled with regret. ‘You had plenty of opportunity to tell me on the drive here.'

‘I'm sorry. I didn't realise the importance or significance of what I'd learnt and then you talked of your father. The time didn't feel right.' She wished now she'd insisted she had something important to say, but he'd opened up to her, let her into his world, just for a moment.

‘That was a discussion you forced on me.' He gritted his teeth and she knew she was pushing him too far, but suddenly she realised she had to.

Here in this tent, with a sandstorm threatening, she had to force him to face up to his emotions. Maybe then there would be a future together, but if there wasn't she had at least tried. Once and for all she had to admit what was between them. It was up to her, it seemed, to decide just what it was. Suddenly nothing was more important. She had to know what it meant to her, as well as Kazim.

‘You lock everyone out, Kazim. Why?'

His breathing deepened but he remained where he was, glaring at her.

‘Don't try to analyse my emotions, Amber. That is a game you will not win.'

‘This is not a game. This is real.' She moved towards him so that she stood close enough to feel the heat from his body, hear the deep breaths he took.

‘Be very careful, Amber.' He growled out the words. ‘You might find you're taking on more than you can handle.'

‘I can handle this,' she snapped, glad that the simmering tension was finally about to boil over. ‘I'm telling you I knew nothing of the money you have been sending to my father. If I did I would never have worked in that club or lived in that flat and it would have been me helping Annie and Claude—me, not you.'

The tirade rushed from her like an avalanche, gathering speed and power as it went until her heart raced and her head throbbed.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion but before he could say anything she pushed on.

‘I admit I came with you to Barazbin because you were going to help Claude, and that I intended to go back to Paris as soon as I could. But I also came because I needed to explore what is between us and because, deep down, I wanted to.'

‘You wanted to?' He looked at her in complete disbelief. ‘That is as far from the truth as you can possibly get. As soon as I found you in that club you were talking of a divorce.'

‘Because I thought that was what you wanted.' The wind seemed to rush at the tent but she didn't take her eyes from his. ‘You rejected me, Kazim, and I will never forget how that felt. I tried to be what you wanted, but it wasn't enough. The disgust in your eyes nearly killed me.'

It also nearly killed my love for you.

‘I didn't expect my wife to come with a baggage of scandal.' The words snapped from him but she didn't care. The lines of communication had at last been opened. If nothing else, she would find out why he'd turned her away so brutally.

‘But I thought...' What had she thought? That he'd been so enraged to find out she was an inexperienced virgin, he'd turned her away?

‘What did you think?' he asked.

‘That a man like you would want a more interesting wife.'

‘No.' He shook his head and took hold of her arms, pulling her closer and forcing her to look up at him. ‘I wanted my wife to be mine and mine alone. I know now that you are. Despite the many months we've been apart, you have always been mine.'

This was too much. Her heart began to swoop and soar with hope. Was he opening his heart to her, allowing her in?

‘Yes, I have,' she said, scarcely above a whisper. ‘I always have, Kazim. I love you.'

CHAPTER TEN

K
AZIM
REELED
BACK
in shock, abruptly letting her go. Had he heard her right? Amber loved him? He looked at her face, so beautiful in the soft light from the lanterns, and that new and all too familiar tightness gripped his chest. As he continued to stand, silent from the shock of those words, anxiety leapt to her eyes. He wished he could take it away but he couldn't, not when he was still unable to believe she meant those words. She hadn't told him one truth yet.

He stepped back a pace, needing distance from her, from her words. What did she have to gain by lying? Had she said the one thing he never wanted to hear to deliberately anger him? Was this her way of extricating herself from the marriage? Pushing him to the edge?

‘That's not possible.' He stepped back further, unable to deal with her latest little lie or the emotions it unleashed within him. He had never wanted to hear those words said to him again. They meant nothing. His past had taught him they were words used to inflict pain—they were weapons. They were also words he never intended to say to anyone. Never. Love, if it did exist, was not for him.

‘Why not?' Her throaty whisper sounded sexy. Too sexy. A rush of lust throbbed inside him, totally contradicting the shock that still surrounded him.

She walked towards him, her soft brown eyes intently watching his face. He wanted to turn and march away from her. But where was there to go? The wind still wailed beyond the tent, even if the rebels had gone. He was trapped.

His gaze lingered on her slender figure and the way the deep red silk wrapped around her body. She'd changed, casting off the jeans and blouse she'd opted to travel in, but he dismissed the idea that it was for him. The red silk shimmered as she took a step towards him and seemed to give her a regal power he'd never noticed before. She stopped, her eyes intently watching his face, waiting for his answer.

What should he say?
I don't want love—from you or anyone.
No, that was getting too close to the truth. Just the thought of saying that aloud made him feel vulnerable.

‘Why not?' He repeated her question, knowing he sounded defensive. ‘Do you really need to ask?'

‘Actually, yes, I do,' she replied, her voice sharper now, which at least had the effect of dampening his ardour.

‘You have made it clear that you are here under duress and the only reason is so that your friend's child can have his medical treatment.' He turned things back to her in an attempt to halt her uncomfortable questions. He stood his ground as she moved to stand in front of him, determination coming off her in waves. Was she hell-bent on making him face the past—all of it, in one day?

‘So you feel nothing for me?' Boldly, she looked up at him and he had the strange sensation that it wasn't him turning the tables, that he was losing
his
foothold. Somehow he was now the mouse being toyed with by the cat. He didn't like it. Not one bit.

He thought of the tightness that crushed his chest when his mind wandered to her, but that must be panic; it couldn't be love. Love only brought pain. He knew that after the way it had scarred his heart all through his childhood. It couldn't be anything else. After all, as a young man, he had vowed never to love and he had no intention of breaking that vow. He'd seen what one-sided love had done to his mother.

‘Love is a fool's indulgence.' He put every bit of anger he had into those words, delivering them with a sharp crack, but Amber stood firm before him, her chin lifted and her shoulders pulled back. Regal defiance emanated from every part of her.

She nodded in agreement. ‘You're right.' She looked fiercely into his eyes and he had the sensation she was trying to read his mind, to discover his innermost thoughts. ‘A fool's indulgence.'

‘Damn it, Amber, don't look at me like that.' He was unable to deal with the power shift that had happened as soon as she'd said those words aloud, giving them life and meaning. He didn't want that. Not now, not ever.

‘What are you afraid of, Kazim?' She took another step closer and he inhaled deeply, taking in her soft scent, which reminded him of the palace gardens—the oasis of tranquillity he had come to enjoy during brief interludes from his frantic daily life.

What was he afraid of? That was a question he'd never wanted to answer—until now. The woman he'd married out of duty, the woman who had professed to hate him, was now the woman who was making him face the past head-on.

He didn't want to face it. He couldn't face it.

‘It's a useless emotion, Amber. Love serves no purpose. You and I have married out of duty, and it can't be anything more than that.' Control returned and he looked down into her upturned face, keeping his own devoid of emotion. She must never know the turmoil she'd unleashed with those three words. If she did, it would give her every last bit of power, leaving him completely exposed, and that was not acceptable. He never wanted to experience that harsh vulnerability or to have his inner peace hanging by a thread, one that could be cruelly cut at any time.

‘Ah, yes, a duty you took so seriously you couldn't even make me your wife on our wedding night. Was it really the scandalous rumours that disgusted you, or was it the fact that you couldn't do your duty because I wasn't your usual choice of woman and you didn't desire me?'

Her words were granite-hard, laced with a hint of sarcasm like a lethal cocktail. It was as if suddenly she had turned to steel or been sculpted from ice. He didn't really care. At least she wasn't throwing herself at him, professing love as false as the tears that had threatened to wet her cheeks. He couldn't take that sort of emotional display. It was too raw.

‘It was nothing more than the fact that I had been led to believe you were an innocent bride. Exactly what a prince would want.' He spoke firmly, now more in control of the strange sensations that had assailed him when she'd made that ridiculous confession. ‘I certainly hadn't been expecting a dancer, especially one so provocative and alluring. It was like I'd stepped back in time and I was a sheikh selecting from his harem. That is something I never wanted to experience.'

It was that image, coupled with the rumours, that had made him turn from her—the image of a bullying sheikh, demanding and unrelenting. A sheikh like his father had been. It was too close to his past.

Her eyes lowered and those lovely long lashes spread over her cheeks and he balled his hands into fists in an effort to stop himself reaching out and touching her, lifting her chin so that he could see her face. If he let his mind continue to wander that path of want and need, he would end up taking her in his arms, kissing her until she begged him to make her his again.

‘I'm sorry—about that night, I mean.' She looked shyly up at him and his heart suddenly thumped like a drum. ‘In my inexperience, I was doing what I thought right.'

He clenched his fist harder. She was testing him fully. First the soft words, then the fiery determination, then the coyness. What would be next? The tears?

‘It's not important any more.' He moved away from her, away from the intoxicating scent of her perfume and the alluring darkness of her eyes, away from the temptation of her soft lips.

‘As you wish,' she said, her words quiet but firm.

* * *

Amber stood and watched him, his powerful body rigid with discomfort. If her confession of love had made him so uncomfortable, she had no alternative but to insist on returning to Paris and her old life. She would demand a divorce. She wouldn't be any worse off than the moment he'd rejected her on their wedding night.

But you will.
The thought lingered in her mind.
You will because you've loved him in every way a woman can, with your heart and your body.

‘Don't play the capitulating woman with me, Amber.' His harsh words wounded more than she was ever prepared to let him know.

She had to concede defeat. Their marriage was doomed. No—it was over. He didn't love her, would never love her if his last words were true, and she just couldn't face living like that. If she went home, back to her life in Paris, she would eventually pick up the pieces, wouldn't she? To love the memory of the man must be better than to live each day with him, knowing he didn't love her.

‘I am merely being practical, Kazim. You and I, we can't carry on like this.' It was an effort to keep her voice steady when her heart was pounding so frantically. But if he could be in total command of his emotions, be so cold and harsh, then so could she.

‘We have to remain married, Amber. I have a duty to my country to produce an heir. You know that.' His lips set firmly and she noticed the shadow of stubble on his chin. Her mind, totally unable to process what he'd just said, instead focused on the completely irrelevant fact that he needed to shave and how much she liked it.

‘I can't,' she whispered, still unable to drag her eyes from his face. Then it hit her full force. He wanted her to stay, to remain in a loveless marriage, and he wanted
her
to have his child, his heir.

Disbelief robbed her of words. How could he expect her to have a child, to bring it into the world out of a sense of duty, passing on that heavy legacy to the child—her child? No, the need to be dutiful stopped here. It stopped with her.

‘Can't or won't?' he demanded quickly, his voice deep and gravelly.

She took a deep breath and stood her ground, instilling as much courage into her voice as possible. This was one battle he would lose. ‘I will not have your child, Kazim.'

‘But that is why you are here in Barazbin.' Incredulity resonated from him and she smiled. She had dared to defy and challenge the mighty Prince Kazim Al Amed of Barazbin. Not something he was used to, she was sure, but what could he do to her now? The worst had already happened.

‘That is not the only reason I'm here and you know it.' Fury pumped around her now, forcing her on because, whatever the outcome, this had to be sorted—once and for all. ‘I am here because you
blackmailed
me with the health of a young child, someone I care about, Kazim. How could you be so cruel?'

His jaw clenched but he said nothing and she ploughed on.

‘When we talked that night in my flat, not once did you mention your need for an heir. What were you planning? To seduce me then send me away again as soon as I'd had the child?' Hurt spiked in her heart at the very thought of such a suggestion. Would he really be that hard and unfeeling? A few days ago she would have said no, but right now, as he looked at her, she wasn't at all sure.

‘That's outrageous!' he protested. But she stood firm, his reaction proof enough that that was exactly what he'd planned.

As if to test her further, the wailing of the wind increased and the tent walls seemed to flap wildly, and she wondered if it would at any minute fall down around her. Just like her marriage had. Now it seemed her life was doing the same thing. For a few short days in England she'd glimpsed what could be, sampled the delights of loving, but since arriving back in Barazbin everything had fallen apart. Her dreams and shattered hopes were crushed almost beyond recognition. He'd never wanted her, not in the way she wanted him. He needed her, not as a woman, but in the same way an actor would need a prop.

‘It's the truth, Kazim, and you know it.' Oh, how she wished she could storm off somewhere and give vent to her ever increasing frustration.

‘Truth seems to be something you are not familiar with.' He spoke softly, his voice lowered and his inky black eyes fixing hers with a piercing gaze. ‘From the minute I saw you in that club, you have lied to me. You can't deny that, Amber. Everything you have said has been wrapped in deceit.'

‘That is not true,' she gasped, remembering the way she'd allowed him to jump to conclusions about the money. She'd let him assume she'd spent it all, had frittered it away on frivolous things. ‘I'm not in the wrong. You're the one who always made assumptions because His Royal Highness is always right, no matter what.'

‘Now you are talking nonsense.' He shot the words out, his anger at her ridicule obvious.

‘I'm speaking the truth and you know it. You deceived me about the reason I had to return here with you, not to mention the callous blackmail tactics you employed.' The tent seemed to bow inwards to them, as if the wind wanted to join in, but she didn't take her eyes from his.

* * *

‘This has gone on long enough,' Kazim snapped as fury and frustration boiled over inside him. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing more to discuss. They were married and that marriage would produce the heir he needed.

He watched as Amber took in a deep breath. He'd never met such a challenging woman. Neither had he met a woman he wanted so much. Even now, with furious words flying between them and the undisguised mistrust radiating from her, he still desired her.

‘Yes, it has and as soon as I can I am leaving. I want to go back to my flat in Paris, and to start my art course. I want my life back, Kazim. I will not be a part of your power games.'

‘Strong words for a woman in such a weak position.'

‘I'm not the one who needs the heir,' she said slowly, her delicate brows raised in mockery. ‘Which I think will put you in the weak position. And yes, I intend to be strong.'

‘You are back in Barazbin as my wife, truly my wife.' He watched as annoyance flashed across her face. ‘That, at least, is something we can build on.'

‘What is?'

‘The attraction we have for one another. You can't deny that, even now. You don't want me to kiss you?' He watched her eyes turn a deeper brown and become heavy, but as her lips pressed together he saw her expression change, as if she'd just stepped behind a protective barrier. A wall meant to keep him out.