Sheikh's Purchased Princess (12 page)

She looked around at the penthouse. In some ways, it was simply a more beautiful cage.

“Fine,” she said out loud. “If he thinks he can order me around, he's welcome to try.”

Some part of her wanted to slouch into the Swan and Sword with the dirtiest, grubbiest clothes she could find. Her old clothes had been trashed, however, and her new clothes, which arrived on a silver rack pulled by discreet staff, were too much to resist.

After a moment of doubt, she gave in to temptation and pulled a rose-colored set from the rack. The raw silk was crisp against her skin, and when she looked in the mirror, she saw with surprise that she looked like a lady, like someone who might very well be going to dinner with a sheikh.

“I have no idea what is going on,” Emily confessed to her reflection, but it had no advice to offer her.

Finally, when the time came, she went downstairs in her gifted finery and was guided into the same black sedan that had brought her from the airport.

The Swan and Sword was a surprisingly humble place, or at least that was what she thought looking at the small stone establishment. There were a few tables on the ground level, all empty, but the solicitous proprietor led her down the broad basement stairs, and she gasped. A large stone grotto hid underneath the restaurant, rough stone walls and timber ceiling illuminated by flickering candle light. Tables covered with gleaming white tablecloths dotted the space, but they were all empty except for one in a recess in the stone, slightly obscured by sheer red curtains. At that table, Adnan waited, dressed impeccably in a gleaming tuxedo.

Emily swallowed hard, and for a moment, all she wanted to do was to step away, to run up the stairs and out into the street. He was the man who had been the source of so much pain for her. He had saved her when her life was at its darkest, but he had also held her heart in his hands and squeezed.

She began walking towards him, and when she came close, he stood and took her hand, bowing over it and kissing her knuckles lightly. From another man, it would have been corny and false, ridiculous to say the least. From Adnan, it felt perfect.

For a moment, Emily simply wanted to give herself to this fantasy, to the idea that this was a normal night for her. He was the sheikh, and instead of being a musician or even a slave, she was a lady, a woman comparable to him in wealth and breeding. They would speak of nothing and everything over their impeccably served dinner, and then later, they would be only themselves, rolling naked in the sheets.

Instead, she was no one but herself, and she knew she did not belong here.

“Adnan,” she said, her voice level. “I thought you were going to send me home. What's going on here?”

She could see that several things occurred to him at once. Finally, he came to some sort of inner decision, and instead of responding, he pulled out a chair for her.

“Sit,” he said. “I will explain everything to you at the proper time.”

Emily narrowed her eyes. “I won't,” she said. Her voice was low but full of fury. “For the last week, I have had absolutely no say in what is happening in my life, no choice. You rescued me, but right now, the only difference between you and the people who took me is money and an attractive face. Adnan, I am sick of being a piece of baggage that people can pick up and move as they like.”

“I understand that,” he said. “I am sorry for what has happened to you. Right now, sit down, and I will tell you everything you need to know.”

“No!” she said, her voice rising enough to cast an echo against the stone walls. “No! I have been silent long enough! You have kept me in the dark, you have shuttled me from place to place like…like cargo and…”

She had no idea what she was going to say, but then Adnan wrapped his arms around her. It should have simply made her angry. This man had a way of overwhelming her, and right now, it should have sent her anger through the roof.

But this was Adnan, and there was no one like him in the world. The moment his arms were around her, she felt a deep peace go through her, and though she knew that she should have fought, she simply rested her head against his broad chest as his hand cupped the back of her head.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured, an edge of real regret in his voice. “For everything that you have suffered. For everything that has happened to you because of me. Darling one, I am so sorry. What I hope…what I pray is that at the end of this, you will forgive me.”

“I have already forgiven you,” she said, painfully aware that she was on the edge of tears again. “I always seem to.”

“That is good,” he said, that crooked smile beautifully familiar to her. The entire day, she had fended off the idea of possibly never seeing it again, and despite everything that had happened, she felt a surge of relief.

“Please sit with me. I promise I will explain everything to you.”

Emily nodded, because in truth, she wanted nothing more than to sit down with Adnan. She let him push the chair in behind her, and when he took his place across from her, her heart beat faster.

“You know, I used to dream of this,” she said. Hurt and time had obscured the memory, left her feeling a little more sympathetic toward her previous self, but there was still an edge to it.

“Really?” Adnan said.

“Yes. When we met, I dreamed of growing up to be this…this elegant woman in beautiful clothes who would meet you at places like this. We would talk about everything in the world, a perfect match for each other, and you would look at me and…”

“And?”

She shook her head, a blush coming up to her cheeks.

You would say that you loved me. That you had never encountered another woman like me.

“I was just a kid,” she said instead. “I had a lot of dreams, a lot of things that were never going to come true.”

“You have your music,” he said. “Beautiful music, and a real talent for composition. That is not nothing.”

“You know my music?” Emily asked, too startled to be wary.

“I do. In between listening to old men tell me how I should do my job, I found some of your demo pieces online. You are an amazing artist, Emily.”

She wondered if she should be warier of his praise, but right then, all she could do was blush, a slight smile on her face.

“It…keeps me fed and housed,” she said. “I hope it might do more someday. They…they took me right after a gig.”

A muscle jumped in Adnan's jaw when she mentioned her abduction. She wondered if it was some kind of offense that his countrymen would treat her so brutally, but then he took her hand in his.

“That should never have happened to you,” he said. “I am so sorry that it did, and if I could go back in time to prevent it, I would.”

“It wasn't your doing,” she said, looking down. “The blame belongs to the people who took me. Not you, not your country. I know that.”

She wondered if she saw Adnan relax slightly. At that point, however, their food came. Some of her stress dissolved when she smelled it. Suddenly she was starving, and though she knew that she needed to talk with Adnan and figure out what the hell was going on, she couldn't resist digging into the creamy chicken stew and rice.

“I still want to know what's going on,” she warned him, and Adnan smiled at her.

“It will keep while you eat, for sure,” he said, and she had to assume he was right.

The food was delicious, a perfect blend of comfort and exciting spices, and when she finally stopped, she sighed.

“You have got a great thing going,” she said, making Adnan raise an eyebrow.

“And what does that mean?” he asked.

“You bring me here, you give me beautiful clothes to wear, you give me delicious food, and no matter what you tell me, it's going to be softened by all of that. Well done.”

“You sound less angry than I thought you might,” Adnan said. “I'll admit, I perhaps had that in mind.”

She shot him a vaguely amused look, or at least a well-fed one.

“All right,” she said. “What's going on? Why am I here instead of on a plane to America? Why are you spending so much cash on dressing me like I'm some kind of doll?”

“It is very simple,” he said, his voice level. “It is because I own you.”

It felt as if the air between them froze. For a solid ten seconds, Emily honestly thought that she had misheard Adnan, that she had somehow not heard what she knew she had.

“What?” Her voice was as flat as a board.

“I paid money for you, a great deal of it, and by ancient law, you belong to me.”

She felt as if the world was tipping out from underneath her.

“Adnan, you can't do this. I don't belong to you—I don't belong to anyone.”

Adnan hesitated for a long moment before he spoke again. “There is something between us,” he said finally. “There is something deep and abiding between us. I do not understand what it is, but I know a few things. I know that when I look at you, something seizes hold of my heart. When you speak, I listen, and when you are pleased, my soul lights up.”

Emily stared at him, wondering what kind of strange wonderland she had fallen into. “What are you saying?”

“I am saying that I will not let you leave until we have figured out what this is between us. You are not telling me that you do not feel the same way. You sit there, and, Emily, I can see your spirit in your eyes. I cannot let that go. Not yet.”

“You won't let me go?” she asked. “You don't have the right to decide that. You don't. I'm a human being, not something that you can buy and trade.”

His gaze sharpened, and there she could see a true warrior's steel in his spirit, the part that would not break, that would keep going even when wounded or sick or starved. It was that spirit that had carved a country out of the desert, and a part of her shivered to see it brought to bear on her.

“You are intent on running,” he said, his tone ominous. “You want to escape, to get back to what you know, and right now, for both our sakes, that is not something I can allow.”

Her mind sorted through the possibilities, trying to find anything that might convince him, any way out. At the end, when she looked at all the angles, she realized that there was nothing she could do.

“So that's it,” she said, gazing at him over the remains of their meal. “You're my owner, so what you say goes.”

He eyed her with something like suspicion, but she could also see a possessive gleam in there that shot a bolt of heat straight through her. Involuntarily, she could remember the touch of his hands on her body and the taste of him on her lips.

If I have to be owned by someone, let it be him,
she thought, before violently shoving the thought away.

Emily crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her chin up. “Should I call you master?” she asked. “What exactly are the rules of your ownership?”

He had the grace to flinch at that, at least. “No rules,” he rumbled. “Only that you stay with me. We explore this. We figure out what we can be to each other. At the end of it, if we don't suit, I let you go your way.”

Emily felt herself baring her teeth at him. Did he think this was some kind of reality show? Did he think that all it would take for them to escape the long shadows of Mirago were time?

“This is my life,” she insisted. “You're asking me…”

“I know very well what I am asking you,” he said, his voice grave. “I am prepared to compensate you.”

“Oh?” Emily asked sarcastically. “Because I didn't think you compensated slaves.”

He shook his head. “I may own you, but you are no slave,” he said, but before she could ask him what he meant by that, he continued. “When it is certain that we should no longer have anything to do with each other, I am prepared to offer you one million dollars.”

Even if she wanted to, Emily couldn't keep up her scorn at that amount of money. She felt her eyes widen. That money would change her life forever. It would remove so much fear, so much doubt, and so much worry.

“Are you kidding me?” she blurted out. “You're going to what, wire one million dollars into my account as long as I stick around for a while?”

“Not exactly.”

Of course. That would have been insane, and even if the money was attractive, she knew that he wouldn't let go of it so easily.

“That is to say, the money is already there.”

“What do you mean?”

He passed her his phone, and after a moment, she took it in confusion.

On the screen were the details of a bank transfer, moving one million dollars from Adnan's Swiss account to her neighborhood bank in Queens. The money that could change her life was already there, and she turned to Adnan with wide eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her throat dry as the desert.

“I am giving you the money that you are worth,” he said quietly. “It is a show of good faith. I want you to stay for…let's say a month. If at the end of that time, we have not learned what there is between us, you can go home, with that money to cushion you. But…I will ask you to stay here until then. To be with me. To be mine, even for a short amount of time.”

Emily swallowed hard, because in some ways, that was exactly what she wanted as well. From their charged meeting to the passion that they had shared so recently, a part of her yearned for Adnan. He was everything she had ever wanted, with a strength and beauty and passion that left her breathless.

“All right,” she said at last, nodding. “For a month, I am yours.”

The moment she said those words, it felt as if someone somewhere had closed an iron door, shutting her in.

What am I going to do?
Emily wondered.
He already has so much of my heart. How can I avoid giving him more of it over the next month?

Even as she entertained that very real fear, however, a part of her warmed to the idea of staying with him. She supposed it was the girlish part of her that had never really abandoned her puppy love for the mysterious Daniel.

Maybe…maybe fantasies aren't so bad after all…

Chapter Twelve

They returned to the penthouse together, but as they came into the suite, Adnan's phone rang.

“I have to take this,” he said, making a face. “The master bedroom straight through is mine. You are of course welcome to share it, but there are two other bedrooms that you may choose as well.”