The Sheikh's Forbidden Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 1) (10 page)

BOOK: The Sheikh's Forbidden Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 1)
6.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

From outside the tent, she heard the sound of the men talking. Suddenly there was the sound of a gust of the wind and the walls of the tent shook.

What kind of a night could Chloe look forward too? There was a storm coming and she wondered if the decision to come all the way out here had been one of the worst she had ever made.

But, there was only one question that steadfastly refused to budge from her mind, no matter what she did. As she started to make her way toward the place where she could freshen up, Chloe could not make up her mind.
 

Which storm was she most worried about? Was it the desert sandstorm or the storm of Zayed's obvious passion for Chloe which troubled her the most?

CHAPTER TEN

Chloe opened her eyes with a start, the sudden roar of the wind from outside the tent startling her into wakefulness.
 

The sandstorm was raging outside. Chloe felt the movement of the air in the tent and heard the shaking sound of the tent walls as the winds buffeted against them.

Chloe realized she had cried out at the moment of waking. Her voice sounded muffled in the soft confines of the tent. But she had screamed nonetheless. She was overcome by a feeling of mild embarrassment and hoped that no-one had heard her scream.

For a moment, she couldn't see anything. The lamp had been turned down. Momentarily she was disoriented by her strange surroundings, the way that a child would be in a strange house. The draped walls of the tent seemed somehow alien, even terrifying and she felt a stab of anxiety in her middle as she sat up clutching the blankets.
 

She was alone in the bed and that seemed suddenly strange, even surprising. Why was she alone?

Then she remembered where she was. She was in a desert encampment in a strange land.
 

Chloe stretched over to where she knew the lamp was. She turned the switch and the small lamp illuminated her surroundings. Chloe breathed a sigh of relief when she recognized the interior of the tent. Chloe pulled up the blanket and tried to recall the previous few hours.

After Zayed had left her, she had washed and rested for a short while. Then he had called her out to their evening meal, which had been a delicious spread of exotic dishes laid out on a low table in the nearby tent. His tent, it seemed was much more luxuriously appointed than hers.
 

She had seen his large bed behind the drapes while she, Zayed, Raz and a few of the men from the camp had shared the meal. The conversation had been polite but awkward and Chloe realized that her exchanges with Zayed in her own tent had created an uneasy feeling between them both.
 

By the end of the meal, it was clear that the sandstorm was starting to build up. Chloe had watched Zayed take charge of the preparations to make sure that the tents were securely tied down, the horses and camels taken care of.

By the time Zayed accompanied Chloe back to her tent, she had seen that he had other things on his mind than any thought of trying to persuade Chloe that he should spend time in her tent. He appeared to have a strong sense of duty to the men of the camp, as well as his concerns for Chloe and Raz.

Chloe had kissed Zayed on the cheek as he had bid her goodnight. She had felt a fluttering in her middle when she had seen the look in his eyes. Zayed had obviously wanted so much more than a brief, polite goodnight kiss, but Chloe was determined to maintain the professional distance she had worked so hard to cultivate. Nevertheless, it had been hard to pull away from him and pull the flap of the door behind her, feeling suddenly alone in the quiet of her tent.

As she had fallen asleep, all she could think of was Zayed and the look on his face as she had turned away from him at the entrance.
 

Listening to the gusts of wind from outside the tent, Chloe reached out to the carafe of water on the small table next to her bed. Before she could pour out some of the cool water into a glass, she heard the rustle of fabric and glanced toward the entrance to her tent.
 

Zayed stood there, holding the tent entrance open. He gazed at Chloe, eyes wide with concern. He was dressed in a loose gown that was open at the chest showing off his incredibly tightly muscled torso.
 
He had on full-length pants that trailed in the sand at his bare feet. By the light of the lamp, he looked like a vision out of an exotic dream, stepping in out of the desert night. Behind him, she could hear the howling wind and see the cloud of sand racing past the entrance.

Zayed hesitated as if reluctant to step inside. "Chloe! Are you okay? I heard you scream." His voice shook with worry.

Chloe tugged the blanket up over her shoulders feeling the blast of air from the open entrance. "I'm fine, Zayed. I just woke up because of the storm."

Zayed stepped into the tent and let the entrance close behind him. Chloe leaned back against the pile of pillows at her back. She was suddenly conscious of the fact that she was only wearing a thin nightgown.

Zayed stalked across the soft floor. Chloe's gaze fixed upon the opening in his gown. She couldn't help but be transfixed by the movement of Zayed's body as he came toward her bed. He was such a gloriously handsome man, she said to herself. She saw the sweat glistening across his chest, the covering of dark hair across the front of his torso, the line of hair reaching down toward his middle.

Almost involuntarily Chloe leaned even further back. She wondered why she was feeling so nervous about Zayed's presence. What she could possibly have to worry about? They had history, after all. They had been closer than this, more intimate on more occasions than she could remember.

Zayed sat down on the side of her bed, gazing at Chloe with apparent concern. "You screamed," he stated bluntly.
 

"It was nothing, Zayed," she said. "I guess I'm not used to the sound of sandstorms in the desert," she laughed.

Zayed shook his head. "I should have realized you'd be frightened," he said.

"I'm not frightened," Chloe insisted.

"Of course you're not. I suppose you've seen worse than this on your travels," he said with a smile.

Zayed reached out a hand as if expecting Chloe to take it, but she resisted the impulse. Zayed noticed that resistance and withdrew his hand, letting it rest on the blanket and across Chloe's legs.

Chloe didn't move her leg away from his touch. She saw Zayed glance down at the blanket as if he realized just what he had done.

There was another roar of the wind against the tent and the walls shook with a deep rumble.

"No need to worry. It's not such a bad storm," Zayed said.

"Really?" Chloe replied incredulously. "This is a mild one?"

Zayed smiled reassuringly. "These tents are designed to cope with most things the desert can throw at them," he said.

"I hope so," Chloe said.

Chloe ran a hand through her hair. She saw Zayed watch her do that, almost savoring the way Chloe's hair tumbled loose over her shoulders. He had always had a thing about her hair. She recalled how he had loved to run his hands through her hair. Now, his eyes watched that simple gesture,
 
a visible hunger etched upon his features.

Chloe shivered in spite of herself. Zayed scooted up the bed closer to Chloe. "Are you cold?"

Chloe shook her head. "No. I'm fine."

Zayed frowned and moved closer until he was close enough that he could have wrapped an arm around her shoulders. But, Chloe saw him take a deep breath, as if he were restraining the urge to pull her close to him.

Zayed peered into her eyes and she was sure she saw a question in them, something he feared to say, something that couldn't be spoken.

Another blast of air shook the tent and the walls vibrated. Zayed reached out an arm and slid it around Chloe's shoulders. She turned and peered at Zayed, feeling a tingle race down her spine.
 

Zayed leaned closer. "It's okay. There's nothing to be nervous about."

Without knowing why, without any kind of forethought, Chloe moved ever so slightly closer to Zayed. She felt his chest rise as he drew in a deep breath. One corner of Zayed's mouth creased with a smile of barely disguised delight.

Zayed scooted so close to Chloe that his hips bumped gently against Chloe's. She saw Zayed lean back against the pillows. He was growing in confidence as if sensing some kind of victory.

"How can you ever get used to this?" Chloe asked.

Zayed shrugged. "It's part of the life of the desert. It's what I've grown up with."

Chloe felt Zayed's arm tighten against her arm, drawing her imperceptibly closer. "I could never get used to this," she said.

Zayed's brows furrowed. "I think you could. You're just about the strongest woman I've ever known. I think you could get used to living in this kingdom, if you put your mind to it," he said.

Chloe shook her head firmly. "Let's not get into that, right now, Zayed," she said.

Chloe heard Zayed sigh softly. "You're right. You must be tired. It's been a long day. Tomorrow's going to be an even longer day."

"How are we getting to the caves if there's a sandstorm?" Chloe asked.

Zayed gazed across at the shaking walls of the tent. "This will have blown over long before we set out for the caves."

Trying to change the subject she said: "I must remember to bring my camera. I need photos and video, or else Andrew will probably fire me."

Zayed's brows rose and he smiled. "Would that be such a bad thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Then you'd have no reason to return to America."

"I'd have to go back. I'd need a job."

Zayed looked down and was quiet for a moment. "You could always stay here," he said eventually.

Before Chloe had a chance to object Zayed had lifted his hand to her face and was moving the locks of hair away from her forehead. His eyes had lit up at the mere touch and Chloe was sure she could see his nostrils flare slightly, as if the touch of her hair was some erotic trigger.

"Your hair is so soft," he whispered.

Chloe didn't say anything, aware that Zayed's gaze was burrowing deep into her eyes. He seemed to be pouring as much emotion as he could into that look, as if he didn't trust himself to say the right words.

Chloe glanced down at Zayed's open gown. She had a sudden urge to run her fingers through the layer of short, dark hairs on his chest.

Chloe noticed that Zayed had seen where her eyes had strayed. Once again she heard him draw in a deep, calming breath. She was sure she could almost feel the tension that was rising within his body, now that he was in such close proximity to her. She could ask him to leave at any moment, she realized.
 

In fact, right now that seemed like the most sensible thing she could do. But then, she had never really been able to be entirely sensible whenever she was around Zayed. He had the ability to affect her with the slightest touch, the merest look, the softest words.

Zayed leaned in closer and Chloe was able to inhale the spicy scent of him, feel the soft touch of his breath against her cheek. He didn't say anything. He merely looked into her eyes, once again filling his gaze with more than words could say.
 

Chloe felt something shift in her middle. Her heart was racing now, and it had nothing to do with the anxiety caused by the dangers of the sandstorm. The only thing that was dangerous right now was the presence of this wonderful man on the bed next to her.
 

She had no idea what he was planning to do, but she suddenly realized she didn't care. As long he was holding her, as long as he was touching her, as long his eyes were searching hers for some kind of answer, she was happy to lean gently against his protective, strong body.

Then Zayed dipped his head and before she knew what had happened, his lips were on hers. His hand slid around to the back of her head and drew her hard and close against his lips.
 

After the briefest moment of surprise, Chloe submitted utterly to his tender lips, feeling the exquisite softness of them. Then his tongue was probing, tempting her to open herself up. She let her lips soften and his tongue began its tender search.
 

Chloe felt a rush of pleasure down to her core. Chloe closed her eyes and gave herself over to the pleasure of Zayed's touch, trusting him completely. It was like the welcome and surprising return of a pleasure she had almost forgotten.

Zayed's hand reached down and he tugged the blanket away, throwing it with a desperately impatient gesture so that her entire gown covered body was let loose from the confines of the blanket.
 

Chloe felt his fingers rest upon one of her breasts. The softness of her gown was no protection against his strong fingers. The peak of her nipple crested and she felt his thumb trace a slow line across the peak. Chloe felt a jolt of pleasure race down her body, once again sending a fiery warning to her core.

Chloe was almost tempted to open her eyes, look at Zayed, check to see if he was as rapt as she was in this tender moment. But she feared to spoil the moment. She could tell by the fierceness of his kiss that he was as lost as she was.
 

It was as if they had never been apart, as if the years were simply falling away, the emptiness she had tried so hard to obliterate was now filled with him. She felt complete with him, knew that this was where she belonged, where she had always belonged.

Chloe wrapped her arms around Zayed, drawing him closer. As if sensing the ultimate triumph, Zayed leaned in as close as he could, and then she was tumbling backward, with Zayed pressing down on top of her. She felt a delicious sense of submission, feeling Zayed's strength, his dominant purpose.
 

The forcefulness of his kiss became even stronger as they settled down onto the bed. She felt Zayed's strong body upon her, his leg parting her thighs. Chloe felt the hardness of him, felt the tension that racked his body, sensed the release he sought. Her mind was a blank, a wonderful emptiness consuming her.
 

Other books

Endgame by Frank Brady
Reckless Abandon by Morgan Ashbury
At the Edge of the Game by Power, Gareth
The River of Doubt by Candice Millard
A Different Trade by J. R. Roberts
The History of Luminous Motion by Bradfield, Scott
Backfire by Catherine Coulter