Slave to the Sheikh: (5 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Amir knew he had it bad.  His business trip to Dubai was supposed to last a week, but after just three days he’d rescheduled his remaining meetings, called his pilot and returned home as soon as it was safe to fly. 

              He missed her.

As he sat in the back seat of his town car, he finally admitted to himself that he was falling for Daniella, actually from the day he’d first met her, he’d felt the stirrings, but he’d never imagined it would be like this.  In the month in a half since they’d become lovers, she was never far away from his thoughts, or his bed, he noted with a rueful smile.  He wagered he was probably somewhat obsessed with her, but could anyone blame him? She was beautiful and brilliant, but more importantly she was passionate about preserving the culture and history of his beloved Sharjah.  It was obvious to him she loved his country and his people, and they were equally enamored with her, which was no surprise.  Every time she talked about her work excavating the city of Dilmun, she overflowed with such enthusiasm, that it was very easy to see that her affection for Sharjah was genuine. 

Amir had never lacked for female attention or companionship, but he had never become attached to anyone ever, because it had always been evident that the women he’d been involved with were more in love with his wallet than him, and they’d openly detested the harsh desert climate of his homeland.  Daniella was different; however.  She loved his home, his people, and had never once shown the slightest interest in any of the material things that came with his lifestyle.  It was actually the opposite.   She had openly revealed that while she appreciated the lavish gifts he loved giving her and the expensive restaurants he was eager to take her to, she was much more interested in experiencing all that Sharjah had to offer. 

So from desert walks beneath the moonlight, to trips to the bazaar, and camel rides along the muddy banks of the al-Sayeef, Amir had truly shown Daniella all of what Sharjah had to offer, and he’d been rewarded with her genuine delight, displaying more excitement for even the most mundane excursion than she’d ever shown when he’d gifted her with expensive jewelry. 

He’d already been half in love with Daniella from the beginning, but her love for Sharjah alone would have easily had him falling for her with abandon. She was everything and more he’d desired in the woman who would claim his heart, but long ago believed he’d never find.  She was perfect, in every way, and then she’d revealed her submissive nature.  From that moment on, he’d known there would never be another woman for him, not ever.   

Amir’s smile deepened.  His feisty professor was turning out to be one very sexy and oh so compliant sub.  He recalled their first time together in his office, and just the thought had his cock hardening within the confines of his trousers.  She’d sucked his dick and at the moment he’d been ready to come, she’d pulled back at the final second allowing him to come all over her.  Even now the image of her naked and on her knees before him drenched in his seed had him on the verge of spurting in his pants. 

It had been the most erotic thing he’d ever seen or experienced, and he’d been so stunned by what had happened and what her actions had meant, he’d gone and ruined the moment by fumbling over his words. Amir was certain his brain cells had probably just been malfunctioning from the mind blowing orgasm she’d given him.  It wasn’t until later that evening, long after she’d fallen asleep, and he’d sat there holding her in his arms while she’d slumbered in his bed, that the enormity of her actions had finally dawned upon him.

Daniella was in love with him too.

He doubted she even realized it; even now he was certain if he confronted her with his conclusions she would deny it, not because it wasn’t true but because she had yet to acknowledge it even to herself.

No matter whether she knew or not, accepted it or not, Amir knew it was true.  Her body had given her away.  It wasn’t just what she’d done with him, but also the level of trust and faith she’d placed in him every time they made love. Every time she submitted to him, she trusted him not to hurt her, to degrade her, and to always bring her pleasure, despite the pain or his roughness.  There was only one explanation as to why Daniella would so freely give herself over to him, and the knowledge that she reciprocated his feelings was what drove him to abruptly cancel business trips and reschedule meetings so that he could be with her.  He just needed more time with her to convince her to finally admit the truth, first to herself, and then to him. 

As if on cue, the car came to a stop in his driveway, and he quickly eased himself out of the backseat.  Daniella was working from home,
his
home today, and he was eager to see her, but as soon as he saw who was waiting for him on the curb and the anxious expression on the man’s face, he knew the happy reunion he’d been eagerly anticipating was not going to turn out quite as he’d hoped.

*****

My fingers pecked across the computer’s keyboard with as much finesse as a kindergartener learning how to type for the first time.  With a heavy sigh, I decided to just pack it in.  Besides, who was I kidding?  With Amir gone, I just couldn’t concentrate. It was pathetic, really.  It seemed as if every single second, the man dominated my thoughts, and being in his home didn’t help, but it wasn’t as if I’d managed to concentrate any better at my own villa or my office.

I closed the draft of the article I was working on and shut down the computer.  I really needed to have this paper ready in a month so that I could present it at the annual Near East Antiquities and Archaeology Conference.  It was shameful to admit it, given that I was a smart, logical scientist, and I prided myself on rational thought.   I was also very independent, but there was no use denying it anymore—I wouldn’t be able to get much work done, not until Amir returned. 

I reasoned it was because our affair was new, and still in the honeymoon phase, so everything was still exciting, or at least that’s what I kept telling myself, because the truth was humbling and scary, no, it was downright terrifying.

I was falling in love with Amir.  

That knowledge alone caused a hard lump to stick in my throat, but if I was correct, and my calculations were accurate, I had a bigger issue to deal with than my growing feelings for the Sheikh, and truthfully, it was that looming matter which had captured most of my focus and concentration lately, more so than anything else. 

The faint sound of someone clearing their throat drew my attention, and I glanced up to meet the sheepish gaze of Amir’s guard and personal assistant, Talib. His expression alone told me he’d been standing there for some time trying to get my attention.  I liked Talib.  He was a man of few words, but aged wisdom and a quiet dignity clung to him so strongly, that upon initially meeting him I’d found him somewhat intimidating.  Very quickly, I’d realized he was by nature a serious man, but his spirit was gentle, as such he’d always been especially kind to me, so much so that Amir would sometimes tease me that I had a not so secret admirer.

“Dr. Hamilton,” he greeted with a polite nod.  “Amir has not yet returned, but I wanted to inform you, his mother and god-sister have arrived and are interested in meeting you.”

My expression must have revealed the shock and terror which had me practically trembling in my seat.  Amir’s mother?  She wanted to meet
me
? 
Why?

Talib’s gaze upon me was serene as usual, but the look of pity in his eyes said it all.  “I do apologize.  They were not expected or else I would have warned you.”

Warned me?

I wanted to ask, did I
need
a warning?  But I already knew.  Ayesha al-Durhan, Eastern born, but Western educated and reared.  If rumors were to be believed, she was a demanding perfectionist, who expected the best in all things, because she held herself to the highest standards, and would accept nothing less from anyone else.  From a bitch to a tyrant, the epithets attached to Amir’s mother ranged from those of respect and admiration, to the more colorful, which could never be repeated in polite company.   

Needless to say, had I known I was to meet the Sheikha, I would have been elegantly attired and perfectly coiffed.  Instead, I was fresh faced, barefoot and clad in a short sleeved maxi dress, while my hair was strewn about my shoulders in a haphazard mess giving me the appearance that I’d just rolled out of bed.  I glanced down at my feet.  Well at least my toenails were freshly painted, and with a nice pink shade too, because that was about all I had going for me right now. 

“When you are ready, I will announce your presence and make the introductions,” Talib stated, effectively reminding me that at that moment I was keeping the Sheikha of all of Sharjah waiting.

“I’m ready,” I replied, with what I hoped was a confident smile, but I had a feeling my show of bravado had fallen woefully short when I glimpsed the knowing look in Talib’s eyes. 

By the time I entered the dining room where Amir received his guests I’d talked myself down off the ledge, and even chastised myself for my foolish anxiety. The Sheikha probably just wanted to meet the professor in charge of the extensive excavation project in her country.  I would make small talk until Amir arrived, and then I would politely excuse myself. That was my plan, and it seemed like a perfectly sound one, or so I thought up until the moment the perfectly elegant Sheikha al-Durhan’s discerning gaze sized me up and she opened her mouth. 

              “So
you
are my son’s professor? The one he has convinced himself he is in love with?”

              Like her son, she was direct, offering no greeting whatsoever.  Her questions startled me, and it was impossible to keep my surprise at her bluntness from showing all over my face.

              “Good afternoon, Sheikha al-Durhan, it is an honor to meet you.” I pretended as if I did not hear her questions, although I wasn’t so certain that was wise when her sharp eyes narrowed to tiny obsidian slits.  “My name is Daniella Hamilton.  Your son has been gracious enough to allow me access to the ruins of Dilmun which I’ve spent the past several weeks excavating.”

              “Yes, I know who you are,” she said coolly.  The Sheikha wasn’t outright rude, but neither did she overflow with enthusiasm either.  She briefly shook my hand which I’d politely extended upon introducing myself, and it was only then that I noticed the young woman who stood several feet behind her.  “And this is Sabeen al-Mujaher. Come Sabeen,” the Sheikha gestured.

              Ayesha al-Durhan, was a vision.  I knew her to be almost sixty, and her beauty, poise and elegance would eclipse that of any woman in her presence, including me,
especially
me, but not what appeared to be her younger version.  I recognized immediately the same ethereal, genteel grace of a proper bred and reared Eastern aristocrat.  She was so stunning, I actually blinked. It was embarrassing actually, but I couldn’t help it.  Sabeen was all dark, sensual exoticism, and she oozed blatant sex appeal from her dark, sultry eyes, shimmering copper skin, and lush, full lips. 

I was practically entranced by the beauty before me, but I still managed a polite greeting, as I took the woman’s delicate hand in a brief handshake. 

              Her palm was cold, her lovely onyx eyes were equally so, and as she quickly assessed and then dismissed me, I was painfully aware that my awe was not returned. The silence that followed was brief, but awkward, as I tried to ignore Sabeen’s open hostility and the Sheikha’s aloofness. 

              “Dr. Hamilton, I would like for you to meet Sabeen. The al-Mujahers are longtime family friends, and Sabeen is my god-daughter, as well as my son’s
fiancé
.”

             
Fiancé?
What the fu—

Oh clearly, I must have misheard, I was certain of it, but one glance at Sabeen’s smug, painfully beautiful face, told me I wasn’t losing my hearing after all.  I stood there wide-eyed, frozen in place as if every muscle had seized, but what else could one do as their heart was breaking into a million pieces.  That’s why I didn’t speak, because I just couldn’t, I could barely breathe with my heart aching, and thankfully I didn’t have to say a word, because Amir chose that moment to enter the room, and all of our gazes immediately snapped to him.

*****

              Amir frowned at the first sight of the black Lincoln Town Car parked within the driveway to his estate.

             
His parents.

             
More specifically,
his mother.
His father respected his privacy and trusted Amir’s authority over Sharjah and would never have shown up to his home unannounced, but his mother? Ayesha al-Durhan believed no such boundaries existed for any of her sons, but
especially
her eldest son.  More than thirty-six hours of labor she’d endured to bring her first born into the world, she was often heard recounting, and thus, that heroic act alone seemingly gave her a privilege that no others had, to interfere in his life.

              As soon as his own town car came to a stop, the door was flung open by Khalil, whose anxious expression would have been indication enough that his nosy mother was present and actively meddling in his affairs.

              “I know,” Amir said to Khalil’s scowling face as he climbed out of the car.