Sheikh's Purchased Princess (16 page)

It doesn't matter,
Emily thought, tossing her head.
I knew how to have a good time all on my own before. Surely I haven't lost it all along the way.

She was determined to have a good time at the gala, even when half of her conversations were about her relationship with Adnan and where he was this evening.

“Indisposed,” she kept repeating with a merry smile. “I decided I wanted to come and have a good time, and he agreed.”

She knew that the museum’s gala was all about a figure from Nahr's medieval era. What she hadn't expected was for it to be about one of Nahr's great sheikhas—a woman leader. As she walked from display to display, she learned about Sheikha Tamar's life, from her humble beginnings as a shepherdess to her rise as a state power.

To Emily's shock, Tamar had been kidnapped from her home when she was only a girl, rescued by a sheikh who rode with an army that was little more than a band of raiders. Tamar had grown to embrace her husband and her place in her new land, driving it towards greatness. She had founded the first university in Nahr, and it was due to her intervention that the women of Nahr had so many rights compared to their sisters in other parts of the Middle East.

Emily looked at the rich robes the sheikha had worn, and she wondered what the long-dead woman would have thought of her situation. She wondered if the first days of Tamar living with her husband had been as fraught as her first days with Adnan. She wondered when the sheikha had decided to stay. Whether she had known peace or joy.

“She was a remarkable woman.”

Emily looked up into the dark eyes of a man just a few years older than her, dressed in the classic black tuxedo that was so common among the Nahr nobility. She didn't recognize this man, but she had been to enough social functions to recognize him as a member of one of the noble houses, a man who likely had more money than some countries and who served on parliament.

“Are you familiar with her history?” Emily asked, trying to figure out if she knew this man. She had been introduced to so many people over the past few weeks that it was impossible to keep them all straight.

“Well, we are taught a version of it in school,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. There was something slightly conspiratorial about him, as if he were deigning to let her in on a great joke.

“A version?”

“Yes. As young children in Nahr, we are taught that she was one of the great mothers of our country, that she overcame great hardship to become a woman who would raise Nahr up among the other great powers of the day. This is all of course true. But…”

“But…?”

The man leaned closer to her, close enough that she could smell his cologne. It was something musky, slightly cloying. Something about it made her want to take a step back.

“But what the schoolbooks never told us was that she was a woman of great passion,” he murmured. “For men and women both. She was faithful to her husband until the day he died, but after that, she took her lovers from the court, setting them up in lavish apartments where their only occupation was to amuse her. In a time when women throughout the world were made to be silent, she proudly proclaimed her needs and took what she wished.”

“Oh,” Emily said faintly, aware that a prickle of panic was rising up through her belly. “That's…that is…that's very interesting. I don't know much about Nahr history…”

“I could teach you,” the man suggested. “it is a fascinating subject, one that offers a great deal of reward to those who study it carefully.”

Emily noticed two things at once. The first was that somehow, they were alone in the small alcove that displayed the sheikha's clothing. The second was that her back was to a corner and that the man who wanted to give her an impromptu history lesson was closing the already small space between them.

“I don't think I'm really up for a history lesson right now,” she said. “If you'll excuse me—”

“Perhaps you'll stay for just a little longer…”

To her shock, his hand came out to curl around hers. His grip was loose, but he didn't look as if he was going to be shaken off.

Emily acted entirely on instinct. She tore her wrist away, and at the same time, she brought the sharp heel of her shoe down on his foot, causing him to pull away and groan with pain.

The moment that she pulled away from him, she spun towards the entrance, aware that he was only a few moments behind her.

Get to other people,
she thought, her mind startlingly clear.
Get to other people, pretend none of this ever happened…

That was the plan, anyway, or at least it was until she smacked straight into Adnan. She looked up at him, and she saw his face go from neutral bemusement to a dark frown.

“What's the matter?” he asked, his voice taut, and she shook her head.

“Ah, Adnan…”

The man who had accosted her stepped out of the alcove now, and despite the slight crease of pain in his eyes, he was altogether calm.

“Samir,” Adnan said, his voice utterly devoid of pleasure. “What a surprise to see you here.”

“Ah well, we must all do our part to support the arts,” Samir said with an easy shrug. “And what a lovely piece of art your companion is.”

Emily felt herself blush hard as Samir took his leave, and then she glanced up anxiously at Adnan. In his crisp black tuxedo, he was almost breathtakingly handsome, and when she leaned in close, she could smell that same cologne that she loved.

“I didn't think you would be here.”

He raised an eyebrow, raking her with scathing glance.

“I can see that.”

For a moment, she had no idea what he was talking about, and then she stared at him in shock.

“What are you—”

“It seems that you work very fast, darling,” he said, his voice light but somehow menacing. “Was Samir showing you a good time?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to deny everything. He had no right to question her like this, especially when she had done nothing wrong. To be blamed for Samir's poor behavior stung, and she had never done well with being unjustly accused.

“What if I said yes?” she asked, her voice pitched to reach only his ears. “At the very least, Samir could get himself away to attend.”

She could see the darkness in Adnan's gaze, and when he offered her his arm, she could feel the tension running through it. She found him squiring her around the museum, ostensibly looking at the art. She wondered briefly at how smooth he was at it, how natural he made it look.

“I think that you are trying to taunt me,” he said conversationally. “I'm wondering why you are doing that.”

She lifted her chin defiantly. He wasn't going to bully her, even when he had all the cards in his hand.

“Maybe I think you need to be taunted,” she retorted. “Maybe I think that at the end of the day, if no one does, you'll turn into a boring man who does little for himself or for the people around him.”

To her surprise, he chuckled a little at that. “You may be right,” he said, and she warmed to hear him sounding so much like himself. “It has…been a strange time for me.”

“You think you are the only one?” she muttered, and that surprised another chuckle out of him.

“No, certainly not. What you have gone through could fill a book. I have forgotten that things must be very strange for you as well right now. Forgive me?”

“I do,” she said in surprise. “Of course I will. Only, it is not always easy.”

“Oh?”

“To be here. To be surrounded by this…this world that is so foreign to me, and that I know I will only be leaving.”

She felt him tense. For a moment, she longed for him to correct her. She wanted him to tell her that she was his, and that she could not leave, would not be allowed to leave. She wanted to hear him say that she belonged at his side, just as he belonged at hers.

Instead, they merely started walking again.

“Nahr is a beautiful place, full of mystery and wonder, but for a foreigner, I imagine it can be hard. Still, it has been a pleasure to have you here.”

She flinched at that, her hand tightening on his arm. She didn't want to discuss the end of her time in Nahr. While she was here, she wanted to pretend that it was forever.

“Well, no matter how it happened, I am so glad you came out tonight. I would not have liked to spend the rest of the evening dodging Samir, and I have a feeling that that is exactly what I would have done.”

 “Good.” She heard a dark edge to his voice.

She noticed his hand closing on hers just as she realized that they had come to a darker, less-trafficked part of the museum. With no one in sight, he pinned her against the cool marble wall, trapping her there by sheer virtue of his superior weight.

“In a short while, you may be thousands of miles away,” he murmured. “Right now, however, you are mine, and I do not share what belongs to me.”

She started to respond to that, but then his mouth was swooping down on hers, capturing her with the intensity of his kiss. There were a dozen reasons why she might have needed him to stop, but the heat of their passions twining around each other burned them all away. She couldn't resist this man, ever.

Emily threw her arms around him, surrendering to the kiss without a second thought. It didn't matter that she might never see him again in just a few days. It didn't matter who might walk in, or what they might say if they saw them like this. In this moment of time, all that mattered were the two of them and the passion that they shared together.

When he finally drew back, he had a look of satisfaction in his eyes and a rather smug smile.

“You're beautiful when you've been well-kissed,” he purred, and she grinned up at him.

“What a lovely way of paying yourself a compliment, my lord.”

“I could take you home,” he growled. “I could roll you under me, spread you open, and then when you saw yourself afterward, you would know exactly how beautiful I find you.”

For a moment, she was utterly taken by his words. In that moment, she could see herself as he saw her, someone beautiful and passionate, consumed by lust and beauty.

“But…”

“But what?” he murmured, and she knew that he was going to kiss her again. If he did that, everything would be lost.

“But I want to see the rest of the exhibit!” she exclaimed, pulling away just as two more people entered the room.

The look he gave her was one of pure frustration, and she would have laughed out loud if they had been alone. Instead, she merely grinned at him, twining her arm around his again.

“Come this way,” she said. “There are some art pieces you must see…”

“You are going to pay for this when we get back to the penthouse,” he murmured, his voice soft.

“I am counting on it,” she said sweetly, and led him deeper into the museum.

Chapter Seventeen

The exhibit on Sheikha Tamar was fascinating, and Emily certainly wasn't feigning her enjoyment at every new piece. Halfway through, a hopeful docent picked up on their interest and offered them a private tour of some of the pieces that weren't on display.

“Why, that would be lovely!” Emily said brightly, and for the next twenty minutes, she took great pleasure in Adnan's almost audible growl.

When they were finally alone in the limousine, he put up the privacy glass and pulled her into his arms.

“Do you have any idea what happens to women who keep sheikhs waiting?” he growled, his mouth buried against the soft skin of her neck.

“Hmm, I have no idea, but if it is anything like this, I can see why they do it…”

She might have said more, but he was sucking on the tender skin of her throat, nibbling and biting in a way that made her gasp with need and want. She could tease all she liked, but at the end of the day, this man excited her ways that she barely understood. This man made her entire body wake up from what felt like a lifetime of sleep, and she would never deny him.

He pulled her half onto his lap, moving his hands underneath her long tunic, looking for bare skin. She could feel his hands on her soft flesh, and she had never hated clothes more than she did just then. She wanted nothing more than to be utterly naked for him, to be spread out and devoured.

“I want you,” she murmured. “Please, I want you…”

He groaned at her words, and Emily thrilled at the response she could evoke from him. In moments like this, when he looked up at her with something close to desperation, she felt as if they were equal. It didn't matter if the entire world was watching her. In that moment, all she wanted was to be with this man.

They kissed each other with agonizing slowness and depth, simply unable to get enough. When the limousine came to a halt in front of the building, they both tensed, and for a moment, Emily had no idea how she was going to survive the trip up to the penthouse. They stepped into the elevator together, giving Emily just enough time to catch her breath.

She could all but feel Adnan's eyes on her. He was tracking her like a big cat tracked its prey, taking in her every motion. The moment the penthouse doors closed behind them, he swept her up in his arms, carrying her to bed.

“That was a nice night,” she said brightly, hopping down. “I'm ready to get some sleep, aren't you?”

The look on his face was pure shock, and she couldn't hold it together any longer. She broke into a laugh as she skipped back from him.

“You are a singularly frustrating woman,” Adnan said, staring at her from across the room. With his open tuxedo jacket, his hair rumpled from her fingers, she thought he had never looked so handsome.

“Am I?” she asked, stretching it out like a taunt. “And what do you think you are going to do about it?”

She hadn't forgotten how fast he could move, not at all, but it was still a shock when he crossed the space between them with such speed. In the space of a breath, he captured her, his mouth crushing hers in a hungry kiss. It felt like it had been years, not hours, since they’d last embraced, and throwing all caution and fears of what tomorrow would bring to the winds, she gave herself up to the kiss.

He claimed her mouth with a hungry urgency that made her head spin, and then his hot lips moved along her jaw, biting at her earlobe and making her gasp with the sensation of it. His hands clutched at her as if he were afraid that she would melt away.