The Sheik and the Slave (18 page)

***

The ball was fast approaching, and Katharine was wrapped up
in many details of planning it. She spent her days with James or Francie and
assisted her mother with menu and music selections. She selected the flowers
and other decorations. She kept herself busy and went to bed tired each night.

Her parents were overjoyed at the betrothal announcement and
only wanted her to be happy. Katharine had discovered that her father had a
special present for her to be revealed that night, but he would not even hint
at what it could be.

Kat smiled as the sun began to set. She walked arm in arm
with Francie down to the small creek that flowed through her father's expansive
property.

"You look much better, Kat," Francie told her.

“
I
feel better, Francie,
”
Kat said.
“
I feel
more at home.
”

"Will you be happy with him?" Francie asked. She
watched the light filter across her friend's face. She marveled at the delicate
bone structure of high cheekbones, lush lips, and blue eyes.

"I hope so," Kat admitted, looking away from her
friend.

Francie was silent as Katharine marveled at the beautiful
sunset.

"Was he handsome?" Francie then asked quietly.

"No," Kat replied. She looked down at the grass
and darted her eyes over to look at her friend.

"Oh," Francie replied.

Kat's cool blue eyes met Francie's warm, chocolate ones.

"He was beautiful,
”
Kat confessed.
“
He
was everything a man should be."

“
Oh
Katharine,
”
Francie
said as her voice broke.

“
I
don
’
t want to talk
about this, Francie. Come. Let
’
s
go back to the house,
”
Kat said, leading her back down the path.

The day of the ball dawned bright, with a clear blue sky
hanging over the large estate. Katharine slept in late and took only tea for
breakfast. She went riding with James, and then took a long nap to steady herself
for the night to come. Most balls lasted well into the night and into the next
morning, so she wanted to be fresh for her guests.

Francie had spent the night and would continue to do so for
the next week. The invitations had been sent out weeks in advance, and
Katharine was anticipating a few hundred guests to entertain. The guests
staying at the Fairfax mansion began arriving in the afternoon, while those
that would only attend the ball arrived later.

Katharine grew anxious as the sun began to set. The food was
being cooked and placed in the large sitting room, while the musicians were
setting up in the large ballroom. The chandeliers with special beeswax candles
lit the rooms, and the floors had been polished to a high shine. An excitement
filled the air as she and Francie dressed.

Francie changed into a peach satin dress with a square
neckline and small bows at the hem of her skirt. She wore pearl earrings and a
simple pearl necklace. The peach color complimented her dark hair nicely.

Katharine looked stunning in her silk ruby dress. The low
neckline exposed her lush breasts, and the stomacher was a beautiful work of
art. The small ruffles along her elbow were white and contrasted with the ruby
red.

She wore single drop diamond earrings and a diamond choker,
which caused men's eyes to take in the necklace and then dip to her breasts.
She hated the effect, but her mother had insisted. Her golden hair was piled
onto her head, with small curls escaping along her neck.

"You look quite lovely, my dear," Anne said as she
kissed her cheek. Anne had chosen a deep purple gown, with amethysts adorning
her neck and ears. Edward wore a coat and waistcoat of black with gold
detailing and snugly fit knee-length breeches, low-heeled shoes, and silk
stockings. His hair was powdered and clubbed with a black ribbon.

"You do us proud, child," Edward said to Kat. He
kissed her hand and led her and Francie downstairs.

The guests were gathering in groups, but Edward led his
daughter away from the gathering crowds.

"Come with me, my dear. I have something to show
you," he said. Edward took her hand and led her outside. They walked to
the back of the large house and down a small passage that led to the stables.

"I am so happy to have you safe and home with us,
Daughter. I have a gift for you from the bottom of my heart," Edward said
as he led her forward.

Inside the stables was a beautiful new horse. The stallion
was the color of chestnut, with a muscled body that rivaled even the Irish
horse breeds.

"Father! He's beautiful!" Kat gasped.

"Besides, I know you don
’
t
like sharing your brother
’
s
horse. Now you have your own," he said.

Kat threw her arms around his neck.

"He came from far away. I'll introduce you to the
breeder later," she heard her father say.

"Thank you!" Kat clasped her arms around him and
kissed him until he chuckled.

"You are welcome, dearest."

Francie had followed at a discreet distance and together
they hugged each other.

"He's lovely, Kat," Francie said as they admired
the stallion.

Kat smiled as the proud horse came forward to nuzzle her.

"He's flawless," she said.

Katharine spent several minutes with her new horse before
she joined the ball to resume her hostess duties. She greeted the guests and
everyone seemed genuinely happy to have her returned home safe and sound.

***

The candle lights flickered low and the music began. It was
a beautiful piece by George Frederick Handel, a Trio Sonata in B Minor.
Katharine listened to the music and closed her eyes. The violin, flute, and
continuo were in perfect sync with each other as the music moved and flowed
through the room. She stood with James, sipping a glass of champagne, while she
watched her guests mingle. A hundred people filled the room, and dozens more
stood or danced in clusters and groups around the food tables. Champagne was in
abundance. She had lost count how many people she had greeted and smiled at.
She suddenly felt lightheaded as the champagne drizzled into her veins. The
trio sonata continued playing, and its beauty was mesmerizing.

When she opened her eyes and looked across the room, she
glimpsed him across the room and knew she had drank too much. He had walked
behind a group of people standing at the far end of the room. Kat almost
dropped her flute of champagne.

"Darling, what is it?" James whispered as he felt
her lean into him.

"The heat. It's the heat," she answered. "I
need some fresh air."

"Of course. I'll accompany you," he said.

"No, you should stay. I'll only be a few minutes,
”
she replied. She moved
her dress hem aside as she moved gracefully through the room.

Kat placed her champagne glass on a table and walked outside
the ballroom and into the night. A few couples were outside talking and they
greeted her. Her brother Charles and his wife, Sarah, smiled at her, and
Charles kissed her in greeting.

She smiled to them and then turned away. She was going mad!
She brushed a hand across her forehead and flushed cheeks.

Katharine looked out over the gardens that she knew so well.
Earlier that day, she had stood next to James, thinking of the stallion and
wanting to give him a proud name. She had always loved Greek mythology so she
had thought of Ares, the god of war. But just then, she had seen him. Either
that or her imagination was going wild.

She saw at first the figure behind the large group of people
at the far end of the ballroom. He was dressed in a deep blue coat and
waistcoat with snug knee-length breeches, low-heeled shoes and silk stockings.
His hair was unpowdered but clubbed with a black ribbon, and he appeared to be
clean-shaven. He was well-dressed, and the cut of the coat showed off his
muscled back and the width of his shoulders.

The breeches did well to expose his muscled legs, and his
dark shoes had no buckles on them.

But as much as tried to fit into this world, he did not. He
was like a wild tiger in a small cage. He belonged in a hot world of sand and
sandalwood incense, not in a ballroom filled with dandies and champagne.

He belonged in a world of sandstorms and harems, where the
world smelled of incense and jasmine.

Kat shook her head. This was madness. This was what happened
to women who had no clean grasp on reality. She wandered into a farthest part
of the gardens, where the willow trees had been planted long ago. The birch and
ash trees grew there as well.

Katharine was particularly fond of elm trees. The willow
tree branches dipped low, almost to the ground, and she stepped inside one. She
looked down at her hands and saw that they were shaking. She closed her eyes
and remembered his goatee as his mouth touched hers. She remembered his hands
on her, inside of her, and taking her that night after the party.

The air was cold, and her breath foamed out as she exhaled.
The willow tree branches encircled her and protected her as she sighed. She must
let it go. She must forget him.
This can only drive me mad,
she told
herself for the thousandth time.

She touched the diamonds at her throat and tried to calm
herself.
Silly,
she said to herself. She breathed out and turned to go
back to the party.

But then, her quick intake of breath and the pounding of her
heart inside her chest happened instantaneously. She shook her head and closed
her eyes.

"You aren't real," she breathed out in disbelief,
her breath foaming in the cold air.

"Oh, I'm real enough," he mocked her.

His clothes were European as she had seen in the ballroom
and his hair was pulled back without a wig. But his golden body belied the fact
that he was not European and never would be. He would never fit in and would
never want to. He had come here for one reason.

"I don't understand. How are you here?" Katharine
asked him, as her fantasy and nightmare collided together. She pressed a hand
to her exposed chest as her heart raced.

"The horse, your Arabian, was my Arabian. I bred and
sold him to your father," Mohammed explained.

"Did you know when you sold it to him that it was for
me?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. His dark eyes met her blue ones.

Mohammed watched her intake of breath, which caused her
breasts to swell over her neckline.

He had watched her that night, not able to take his eyes
from her. He had many dealings with Europeans because of the Arabian horses he
bred. The horses were renowned for their beautiful bone structure and stamina,
but he had never accompanied the horses once they were sold. He had always
dealt with the foreigners, accepted their money and had his men transport the
horses. This time was different, however. This time
everything
was
different.

Her father had written to Mohammed, inquiring upon the price
of an Arabian stallion. Edward wrote in detail about his spirited daughter,
explaining that the horse must be the same, intelligent and spirited. Mohammed
had accompanied the horse to England to bring back what was his by Arab law.

He had watched her stand near the English dandies at the
ball and smile into their faces. He had watched a young blonde dandy rest his
hand on Katharine's waist and clenched his own fist in anger. She had used her
body well to trap men into wanting what they couldn't have. Poor Majeed had found
out the hard way. His own brother was enchanted by the little falcon! Majeed
should have known better.

And now, after coming across the sea, he was here to claim
her again. There would be no negotiations and no bargains; she would be his.

Unaware of his thoughts, Katharine shook her head, confused.
Her diamond earrings glistened in the dark.

"Why are you here?"

Mohammed stepped toward her.

"You know exactly why I'm here. I'm here to take back
what's mine," he told her.

He closed the small gap between them and jerked her into his
arms.

"No," was all she managed to say before his mouth
took hers. He was clean-shaven and well-groomed, which only made him more
dangerous. She knew what was underneath the fancy clothes.

His one hand held her body to his while his other hand went
to the back of her head. He pulled out the pins that held her hair in place,
causing a golden waterfall down her back.

"Please," she said, struggling against him.
Katharine tried to move away from him but couldn't. His mouth moved over hers,
but the kiss wasn't sweet. His mouth took hers until she tasted blood. His
tongue delved against hers and his leg came between hers as he pushed her back
into the trunk of the willow tree.

"You are mine, princess," he breathed into her
neck before he lightly bit into it. His bite caused goose pimples to break out
on her arms, and she shivered.

"No, things are different. This is a different
place," she gasped, trying so hard to fight the urge to give into him.

"You and I are the same, princess."

Katharine shivered in the cold and at his words.

"No we aren't," she argued.

Mohammed held her body against the tree.

"I have not come this far to play games," he said.
His hand moved to her low-cut gown and moved his fingers inside. Without
tearing her dress, he pushed her breasts up and moved the dress down. He took
one tight nipple into his warm mouth. She whimpered.

"You dress like a whore here. Then play the whore for
me," he said. His fingers threaded into her hair as his mouth touched her
other nipple, which was tight and wanting the attention. She moaned in spite of
herself.

She felt herself come alive as she pressed into him. She
couldn't help it.