Claimed by the Sheikh (9 page)

‘That is why you performed that dance? So that I wouldn't think you were a virgin?' He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Surely she knew that in his culture a man prized virginity above all else when he married?

‘I had been warned by my mother that you had a reputation, that you wouldn't appreciate inexperience.' Her face coloured as she explained her motives and inwardly he cursed her mother's unintentional bad advice.

He swore harshly, unable to believe what she was telling him, and she pulled back from him, physically and emotionally. ‘I'm sorry.'

‘It's in the past,' Amber said as she slid from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, coming out a few moments later wrapped in a white towelling robe. ‘Let's just forget it and move on. All I need to do now is return to Barazbin with you. Once you have sorted things with your father we can divorce and go back to our lives. Providing Claude has had his treatment, that is.'

He had to tell her everything.

‘We can't divorce, Amber, not ever.'

* * *

Amber felt as if the floor she stood on had turned to quicksand and that she was sinking—fast. Was there no end to his ability to shock her?

She shook her head. ‘That can't be right.' She'd wanted a happy ever after since she was a young girl, had dreamed of marrying a handsome prince and being loved. So far she'd only got one part of that dream.

Kazim threw back the sheets and got out of bed, not even trying to cover his naked body as he crossed the room and took clean clothes from the wardrobe. He turned to face her, his bare chest, sporting the scar, drew her attention until he spoke.

‘You knew I was heir to the throne. Just as you knew our marriage was arranged to unite two kingdoms and nothing more. We should never have parted, certainly not within hours of the ceremony.' He paused and looked at her, as if letting the words sink in.

‘Now your father is ill,' she whispered, more to herself, finally understanding the implications of what he was trying to tell her.

He nodded. ‘That is why you must return to Barazbin. I am the sole heir to the throne. We cannot divorce.'

‘But you don't love me.' The words rushed out of her as his stern face regarded her from the other side of the room.

‘Love has nothing to do with it,' he snapped and he picked out a shirt, roughly pulling it on. ‘It never has and never will.'

She watched as he continued to dress, obviously preparing for his final meeting. She couldn't wait for him to go. She just wanted to be alone with her thoughts and the knowledge that she would never be free of the man she loved—a man who didn't love her.

Shock made her shiver and she sat down on the bed, hardly able to stand any longer. ‘You knew this all along?'

‘I am doing my duty, Amber, just as you are.'

Indignation flared to life inside her. ‘By first blackmailing me and then seducing me? You even let me carry on believing I only needed to return to Barazbin for a short while.'

His handsome features clouded with anger as their eyes locked. She didn't know what to think. How had life become so complicated?
Because Kazim had come storming back into it.

‘I haven't time to discuss it now.' He strode to the door, his anger evident with every step. ‘Be ready to leave for Barazbin as soon as I return. It is time to go home.'

CHAPTER SEVEN

A
MBER
WOKE
TO
new sounds as the palace came to life around her. The heat of the desert invaded her room and scents from the courtyard garden drifted in through her open window. It was a magical place but right now, just as she had been on arrival late last night, she felt immune to its beauty.

Emotionally bruised by the last few days, she just wanted to curl back up under the crisp sheets of her massive bed and stay there. She had no idea what time it was; the night flight to Barazbin had totally confused her, as had the man who'd accompanied her.

She hadn't been able to help herself and had fallen utterly under Kazim's spell. Memories of the time they'd spent making love still warmed her body. His callous dismissal before he'd left for his meeting reminded her she needed to guard her heart against him. She'd been silly to believe, even for one moment, that he really desired her. All he'd wanted was to do his duty and make her truly his wife and she'd made it easy, falling into bed with him.

She heard voices and sat up in bed, the opulence of the room startling her. High ceilings, domed and ornately painted, rose above her and the vastness of the room was broken by intricately carved marble pillars. The four-poster bed was so large and soft white tulle hung from it, draping to the floor as if the room was meant for romance. This wasn't the room she'd spent her wedding night in.

As confusion settled over her she heard Kazim's voice, unmistakable and strong. It sent a ripple of awareness cascading over her. It wasn't right that he could be so unaffected by her when she only had to hear his voice to stir all those longings.

She couldn't let those heady desires take over again. They served only to expose her emotional vulnerability—to herself and Kazim.

The tall double doors opposite the bed opened and he stood on the threshold. Nothing could have prepared her for that moment. Dressed in full white robes, he took her breath away, rendering her completely speechless. The last time she'd seen him like that it had been their wedding day.

He looked regal and totally relaxed in the palatial surroundings. A wild prince of the desert tamed, just a little, by his unwavering duty. His eyes met hers, his expression guarded, and pain lanced through her. She was back in a country she had no wish to be in, one that was painfully close to her father's country of Quarazmir and with a man who only wanted her there out of a sense of duty. But she would never let him know that and demurely clutched the sheet against her. He, on the other hand, didn't appear fazed by the situation at all.

‘I trust you are rested?' The enquiry was polite, his voice resonant yet powerful; she still couldn't speak but nodded.

‘Good. Your maid will help you dress then you will receive your first visitor.' He stepped into the room, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor.

He stopped by the bed and stood looking at her for a moment, his gaze locking with hers. The spark that always ignited deep within her flared into life once again. He looked as if he'd just stepped out of her wildest dreams, the ruggedness that had called to a primal part of her on their wedding day evident now Western clothes weren't able to mask it. His thick brows lifted and his face showed impatience but she could barely register what he'd just said.

‘Kazim—' she finally managed to say something and briefly his face softened and he moved closer to the bed ‘—I must know what is happening with Annie.'

His face hardened as he stood looking down at her. She'd said completely the wrong thing, she knew that. She should have been patient and at least waited until she was up and dressed so that she could face him on an equal level. But at the same time she was here because of Annie and Claude, so wouldn't it be better to know this now, before her time as Princess Amber of Barazbin started, especially as she'd tried endlessly to phone Annie? Her only contact with her friend now seemed to be through Kazim.

‘I will see that you are kept up to date with the child's progress.' With those terse words he marched from the room, the echoing retreat of his footsteps hard and furious. In just a few minutes she'd blown it, shattered any hope of actually becoming closer to Kazim. Did he let anyone close?

She hid her face in her hands and wished the last few minutes undone. Why had she said that? All she'd managed to do was remind him of the deal they'd made, the real reason she was here at all, when she should have built on those tender moments in England.

Heat flooded her as she recalled the way he'd taken her, claiming her as his. The urgency of the first time had unlocked something inside her, allowing her to throw caution aside and surrender to his mastery. The second time had been less urgent, but far more intense. For her, the moment had been loving and she'd let her love shine through, but was she now to pay for that?

Had she uttered words of love as passion had consumed them? She hoped not. Instinct told her a man like Kazim didn't want to hear such words. Her ever growing love for him was something she must keep hidden. What good would it do to love a man she couldn't stay with?

More footsteps, this time softer, drew her attention and she looked up as a young girl walked into her room, carrying the most beautiful
abaya
. At first Amber was unsure of allowing herself to be dressed. Before her marriage, it was not something she'd done but she soon gave into the ministrations of her maid, happy to be wearing such beautiful fabrics again. As a teenager she'd had the most amazing wardrobe of cool silks, but she'd quickly converted to Western clothes when she'd gone to England and now felt most comfortable in them.

A short while later she was led through to a sitting area. Another set of elegantly arched doors opened and her mother walked in. She had had no idea who the visitor was but her mother was the last person she'd expected and she greeted her cautiously, the last angry words spoken by her father, undefended by her mother, still etched lividly into her memory.

‘I had not expected that you would return,' her mother said as she sat elegantly opposite her, but on the edge of her seat.

Amber watched as her mother looked around the room; nerves seemed to be getting the better of her. What had happened to the woman she'd looked up to as a child? Had her father's ambitious schemes been unkind to her also? Amber considered, for the first time, that her mother might be unhappy, that the smiles she bestowed on everyone could be a mask to hide that unhappiness.

Life had changed drastically for her mother. She'd been an English bride to a sheikh and had fallen in love with the desert and the man. She remembered her English grandmother telling her fairy stories of love and happiness, assuring her that one day she too would have her own prince. Had that been her mother's way of escape? Finding her own prince? Had it gone wrong?

Amber blinked back tears, tiredness making her too emotional to say much. She couldn't dwell on the past now; she had to look forward, to focus on doing what was necessary in Barazbin, so that as soon as she got word that Annie and Claude were okay she could prepare to leave—both the country and its prince—for good. She couldn't delude herself any longer: she didn't belong here.

‘You are the last person I'd have thought would be here to welcome me home. I thought I brought nothing but dishonour to the family.' Finally she managed to speak, her words hard and to the point. She wanted to let her mother know just how hurt she'd been by their reaction to her failed marriage. The callous dismissal of her as a daughter had cut deep. Far deeper than she'd realised.

Her mother stood up and walked towards her and took her hands in an uncustomary show of affection. ‘You look well. England must have suited you.' Her mother's words were soft and genuine, tugging at her heartstrings and childhood memories.

‘For a while, but I moved to Paris; that's where Kazim found me.' Suddenly everything she'd been through in the last few days was too much and the need to confide became unbearable. ‘He sent me away because of the school scandal.'

Her mother tightened her hold on her hands as if trying to infuse her with strength. ‘The reporter was paid off and paid well. It will only have been gossip within these walls. Always remember that, Amber. Walls listen and tell all your secrets.'

Amber frowned, confused by her mother's words. ‘It might have been different—we could have at least been happy.'

Her mother smiled a soft knowing smile. ‘You love him.'

She nodded, accepting the truth. There was nothing she could do about it. She loved Kazim.

Her mother let her hands go and walked across to the window, looking out over the courtyard garden. A trickle of dread slipped down Amber's spine. ‘Mother?'

She watched at her mother returned to her seat, the mask of propriety she always wore back in place after the tender moments of concern for her only daughter.

‘I have come for one other reason. Prince Kazim, your husband, sent your father money.' Amber looked at her mother, an unsettling feeling pressing down on her. ‘Money that he believes you had requested. He sent it for you, so that you could live your life in comfort.'

Amber tried to take in what she was being told, remembering Kazim's pointed comments about her lack of money, but still it didn't make sense. She met her mother's gaze, tilting her chin in defiant challenge, sensing trouble. She wasn't going to be meek and malleable any more—for anyone.

‘Your father has been using it for other causes. He's been funding attacks on Barazbin's people,' her mother finished quickly, her voice almost a whisper as she looked down at her hands, grasped tightly in her lap.

‘Why?' Amber asked, moving towards the chair her mother sat in. She wanted to kneel down and look up at her as she'd always done. She couldn't take in this unexpected piece of news.

‘He is avenging your honour, Amber.' Her mother spoke softly, her expression intent and serious. ‘He believes he is exacting punishment for the way Kazim discarded you.'

‘What?' Amber couldn't believe it. All along she'd thought her father had disowned her, but he'd been planning revenge. ‘No, he can't be.'

‘Please don't say anything!' Her mother looked up beseechingly and Amber saw real panic in her eyes. ‘It is misguided loyalty to you, I'm sure, but don't tell your husband. We will all be ruined. Your marriage will be over.'

‘Why are you telling me, if I can't tell Kazim?' Amber loved her mother, but she also loved her husband. Her loyalties were being pulled and tested between a family who'd as good as disowned her and a man who didn't love her.

‘Because you love him and because I want you to be happy.' Her mother's eyes looked sad despite the forced upbeat tone of her voice.

‘How can I not tell him? Keeping one secret has all but destroyed my marriage.' Panic rose up as she met her mother's gaze. She was asking the impossible. She couldn't be loyal to both her husband and her parents.

‘I must go,' her mother said and got up, anxiously looking around her. ‘Promise me you won't tell him.'

How could her mother ask that of her? ‘I don't know,' she whispered honestly. ‘I don't know if I can promise you anything.'

‘Then, whatever happens, remember I'm here for you.' Her mother touched her arm briefly and Amber had the strangest desire to throw herself into her arms, to be a young child, safe and protected. But she wasn't that child any more.

Amber swallowed down disappointment and watched as her mother turned and walked away. She still sat in disbelief when Kazim returned a short while later. She looked up at him, not knowing what to say. Should she tell him what she'd just learnt? His comments about how she'd been living when they were in London now made so much more sense. All along she'd thought he'd been referring to the cost of Claude's treatment, as if he begrudged the child a chance at life.

‘It is good that your mother has come to welcome you back,' he said as he sat in the same seat her mother had just vacated. His long legs stretched out before him, unusually relaxed, drawing her attention.

Amber bit back the bitter taste of tears, looking down at her hands clasped much tighter than she'd realised in her lap, just as her mother's had been. What would he say if she told him why her mother had come?

She didn't know what to think, who to be loyal to. Deep down she knew her first loyalty should be to Kazim now, but how could she ignore the plea in her mother's face?

‘It is,' she said and looked up into his handsome face, her breath catching when she saw the warm smile on his lips. Inside her, a liquid heat rushed around, making her feel giddy as he continued to watch her, his eyes sparking with unmistakable desire. She nearly gave in, but sense prevailed.

‘I have more good news,' he said as he sat forward, bringing them close enough for her to catch the heady masculine scent of the desert, stronger now.

What else was he going to throw at her? ‘Is it news from Annie?' Hope leapt in her chest. She was desperate to hear from her friend.

He frowned and the excitement she'd momentarily felt seeped away. ‘You will hear soon. Hasim is looking after them, do not fear. The news I have is more important,' he said quickly, as if trying to distract her. ‘Tonight there will be a feast here in the palace, in honour of your return.'

‘A feast?' This was the last thing she'd expected. She'd been hoping to remain as low profile as possible, not wanting to give false hope to anyone that she would stay around. Least of all to herself.

‘Word has gone out swiftly and people are celebrating your return. It is a good sign.' He reached out and took her hand in his, the heat of his skin scorching hers, making her breath catch. ‘You are very much wanted in Barazbin and not just by the people.'