The Sheikh's Hesitant Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 7) (14 page)

As they walked down the small flight of marble steps that led to the flat grass of the lawn, Zarif smiled to himself.

Now it was going to be his turn to find out more about Rachel's past.

He couldn't wait.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Rachel walked by Zarif's side feeling the tightness in his arm, sensing the firmness in the way he held her close to him.
 

She let the details of their conversation settle in her mind. He'd confessed it all to her. Well, most of it. Much more than she had expected him to do. And, it had taken her by surprise.
 

Rachel glanced up at Zarif. He looked more relaxed now than he had done just a short time ago as if he'd unburdened himself of something heavy. Rachel considered what he'd just told her about Alana. The woman sounded like she'd been a nightmare. Of course, Rachel didn't know Alana, had never met her. But, she could tell by the passion in Zarif's account of his time with her that their time together must have been difficult.

Rachel thought of Alana living in the palace, sleeping in Zarif's bed. That simple thought made something twist in her middle. Jealousy? Surely she didn't feel guilty that Zarif had taken Alana to his bed. She pushed those thoughts and the images it conjured up into a safe corner of her mind.

They were making their way across a flat expanse of well-tended lawn. In the distance, she could see a seat beneath a tree. That must be where he was leading her, she thought. Now that he'd shared the details of his past she wondered just how insistent he would be in asking the same from her.
 

What could she tell him? Dare she reveal the most important thing of all? Her innocence? The fact that she had never been intimate with a man?

Rachel glanced up again at Zarif. He was peering straight ahead. She wondered if he was preparing himself to delve deep into her history. He had every right to know, of course, she told herself. She wasn't fooling herself any longer. She had come all the way out to his country, into his private world, to discover if what she'd felt back in London was, in fact, true. Her feelings for this man who grasped her arm so tenderly had grown so much that when he'd offered the chance to come to Qazhar, it really hadn't taken more than a moment's thought to submit to the temptation to come here, to search for the answer that she so badly wanted.

Dare she love the sheikh? Dare she open herself up to him and reveal her ultimate secret, her most intimate truth?

The grass was soft beneath her feet. She could feel the heat of his arm as he held her close, could feel the heat of his body every time she eased against him as they both walked slowly in this beautiful place. She gazed around, taking in the sight of the garden in the desert. It was expansive, stretching all the way to the walls that acted as a barrier between the sanctuary of the palace and the harshness of the desert.

Through the trees, she could see the gate they had driven through on their arrival. It had been like entering another world as the limo had made its way up the long road. Arriving here, she had truly felt like a princess being chaperoned into an unreal, romantic, secret place.
 

Rachel turned and glanced back toward the palace. It was like a white, shimmering marbled hallucination and for a moment she wondered if she was really here. It was so different from everything she had ever known that she felt something had changed inside her just by being here. Her heart was thudding, and she realized she was more nervous than she'd thought possible. Did some hidden part of her realize that this was one of the most important moments in her life? It certainly felt like it, she told herself as they finally arrived at the white marble bench beneath the tree.

Zarif released Rachel's arm and gestured to the bench. Rachel smiled at him and sat on the bench feeling the coolness of the stone through the fabric of her dress.

Zarif sat down next to her and rested his hands on the bench, leaning back and gazing up at the canopy of branches above their head.
 

He sighed and looked out across the gardens . "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Rachel nodded. "It really is," she replied. She felt a sudden peace settle upon her as she glanced at Zarif and saw he was looking right at her, a warm smile on his face. Yes. He'd calmed down so much since sharing that part of his past with her.

Rachel felt her heart quicken, her throat tightening. She cleared her throat and saw his brows furrow.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Rachel nodded. She leaned forward and rested a hand on the bench. Her fingers touched his. She felt a sharp rush of sensation along her arm at that touch. He glanced at her, his eyes bright with recognition. Had he felt the same as her? It certainly looked like it. And he wasn't moving his hand away from her.

Zarif gazed out across the garden. She heard him draw in a deep, slow breath. The air smelled sweet with the heady mixture of the scent of the nearby flowers. She suddenly felt almost dizzy with the riot of sensation taking hold of her senses. Touching Zarif, the brightness of the colors of the garden, the overpowering scents drowning her.

Still, he didn't ask her any questions, didn't press her to say anything. For a moment she felt grateful to him, thankful that they could be like this together. It was yet another sign to her that her instincts about him must be true. She'd made the right decision to come here, after all. It just felt right.

Rachel cleared her throat, and he looked at her, perhaps sensing that she was about to open up to him, at last.

"Since we're talking about the past, I figured it would only be fair to tell you one or two things about myself," she said trying to make her voice seem casual, almost matter-of-fact. She knew she'd failed when she saw him try to disguise his eagerness.
 

He turned slightly and his hand slid away from hers. She felt the sudden absence of his touch. Zarif's gaze was intent, but he said nothing.

"Your not the only one who had problems with former partners," she said. She realized she'd avoided using the word "lovers". Of course, she couldn't have used that word about Martin. He'd never been her lover, although he'd almost become her first. The images she'd worked so hard to ignore for so long came rushing into her mind.

Zarif's brows furrowed as he saw the darkness settle across her features. "You don't need to tell me anything if you don't want to, Rachel."

She shook her head sharply. "No. I want to. It's only fair after what you've shared with me."

Zarif shrugged. "I felt you needed to know the truth," he said.

Rachel leaned closer to him. "And I appreciate that you did that. I really do."

Zarif's features softened. He gazed at her, and she felt the familiar flutter of those butterflies in her middle. How he could affect her with just a look! The dark pools of his eyes contained so much promise, so many hints at something primal.

"You told me about your parents. How you devoted yourself to your career after they passed away. You must have worked so hard," he said.

Rachel nodded. "It wasn't any more difficult than it would have been for anyone else," she replied.

Zarif frowned. "I don't think that's true. It seems to me you've proved yourself to be pretty resilient."

Rachel shrugged. "That's not for me to say."

Zarif leaned closer. "But it is for me to say." He smiled at her, and she felt her heart race suddenly. "If I want to pay you a compliment that's entirely my prerogative," he said firmly and then grinned. "I don't intend to stop doing that for quite a while."

Rachel gazed at him. He had such a way of always making her feel at ease, of calming her. Zarif could always make the world seem like a good place, she told herself.

Rachel pulled her gaze away from Zarif and considered how she was going to broach the subject she so desperately needed to get out of her system. It felt like she was about to make a confession. No-one had ever made her feel able to open up as much as Zarif was able to do, she realized. That thought shocked her for a brief moment, and she felt herself hesitate.

Then she allowed a long sigh to ease out of her and spoke. "I had a relationship when I was in my final year at college. The only one I had while I was there."

Rachel glanced at Zarif and saw that he was listening calmly, his brows furrowed deep with focus.

"He was an assistant to one of my professors. Just a few years older than me. In his late twenties. A charming person. At least, that was what I thought at first."

Rachel saw Zarif's features darken slightly, but she pressed on.

"We spent a wonderful summer together after I graduated. I thought he was my whole world. For a while. We just seemed to have so much in common. And, I'd been so focused on getting through college, that I had made sure I didn't get involved with anyone else. There just wasn't time."

Rachel paused and gazed up at the sky. Why was it so difficult to share the past? This wasn't as easy as she'd anticipated.

Rachel drew in a deep breath and continued. "He was charming. Witty, clever, and good looking in a kind of nerdy kind of way."

She saw Zarif smile slightly at her description of Martin. Zarif was as far as you could get from "nerdy".

"It was during that summer that I saw the change in Martin. After the college broke up and we started spending more time together, he seemed to become different somehow. At first, I put it down to just being away from the college environment. But, after a while, I couldn't ignore what I saw any longer. Martin started to become unpleasant. He was bad tempered and would fly off the handle for the slightest reason."

Rachel saw Zarif's brows furrow into deep ridges. The line of his jaw had tightened into a hard edge.

"And then I realized that it had to do with me. With a choice I had made."

Zarif squinted at Rachel. "What do you mean?"

Rachel gazed at Zarif. Could she tell him the true reason Martin had become so frustrated? Should she reveal the real cause of her first true boyfriend's ill temper?

"I don't know how I can say it," Rachel said looking away from Zarif.

She felt his hand settle on hers. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to tell me," he said.

Rachel gazed at him, feeling a sudden urgency. "But I want to, Zarif. That's the thing. I really want to."

Zarif glanced back toward the palace. "We could continue the conversation later, if you want."

Rachel squeezed Zarif's hand. "No. I want to share this with you. Right now. It's the least I can do. It's what I want."

Zarif smiled easily at Rachel. She saw acceptance in his gaze, a patient understanding.

"It all came to a head when Martin asked me to meet his parents. I'd been concerned about how things had been going between us. So, I refused. And that just set him off. He accused me of denying him what he had every right to expect. He accused me of being a tease, leading him on, just to get better grades at college. He demanded that I give him what I was determined to keep for the man I truly felt something for." Rachel turned her head, her eyes meeting the penetrating gaze of the amazing man seated next to her. She could see dawning awareness brighten his gaze. Their mutual gaze felt for a moment like something that would never be broken. Not by anything.
 

Rachel swallowed, feeling the dryness of her throat, but she forced out the words she knew she had to say. "You understand what I'm saying?" she asked, her voice cracking.

Zarif looked at her, a steadiness in his gaze. He understood what she was telling him. She could see that. And, all that mattered to her right now was how he was going to react. Emotion surged throughout her body as she gazed into his eyes, seeking some hint, some clue to what he was feeling.

Then he answered her in the only way he could.

Zarif dipped his head and claimed her lips with a kiss. Her heart began to race, and wild sensation coursed through her as his lips took possession, removing her every doubt. His expert tongue probed her, driving her dizzy.
 

Rachel pressed a hand against his firm chest, and she was sure she could feel his heart thudding race-horse fast. She gasped at the sheer intensity of his sudden attention. His breathing was hard, every bit as harsh as her own. She felt his hand rest on her chin, lifting her mouth so that he could better claim it.

His lips were driving every thought from her mind, and she was consumed with gratitude for that. Because, right now, the only thing that mattered was that he understood, that he knew. Her innocence had been revealed to him, and he had accepted the truth of it.
 

Zarif edged closer to Rachel, and she felt his firm thighs press against her legs. The proximity of him created waves of anticipation through her. She felt the heat at her core.

His lips released her, and he gazed into her eyes, full and complete comprehension there. Zarif smiled at her, and she couldn't resist the urge to smile back at him.

She opened her lips, intent on saying something to him but he lifted his hand and pressed a finger gently to her mouth.

"You don't have to say anything else, Rachel," he said. "I understand," he murmured.

Rachel gazed into his eyes and saw something new there, something she hadn't seen before. A word flashed into her mind, and she felt a sudden panic. She silenced that voice, pushing the word into oblivion.

Had she gone too far? Had she presumed too much? And now it was clear from that look in his eyes that everything had changed, that somehow in the past few moments they had moved forward to a new place, a place they'd never been to before.

Rachel felt a sharp hesitation, her body tightening. She saw that Zarif had noticed the change in her. His eyes narrowed. "Rachel?" he said, his voice rising with concern.

Rachel stood quickly, straightening her dress, desperately trying to grasp onto some kind of composure. She fussed with her hair and watched Zarif stand up.

"I'm hungry," she announced, even though she knew she really wasn't.

Zarif looked surprised. "Really?"