The Sheik's Kidnapped Bride (17 page)

“I have honored your wishes,” he said curtly.

“What wishes are those?”

“That you be left alone. Are you enjoying your solitude?”

She closed her book and set it on the table next to her. “I never requested solitude, I simply asked for separate quarters. However, you chose to take advantage of that and cut me off from the world. Does it make you feel big and strong to treat me this way? Is this a game of power? If so, you’re only playing with yourself. I’m not interested in one-upmanship.”

He looked at her for several seconds. “It seems whatever I do, you are determined to assume the worst about me. I honestly believed you wanted to be alone. You are my wife, and as such, a member of this family. You are welcome to leave your suite and join us for any meals you wish. This is a palace, Dora, not a prison.”

She didn’t know what to make of his words. Was he telling the truth, or was this all another act? She stared into his handsome face and had to curl her fingers into her palm to keep from reaching out to touch the slender scar on his left cheek.

“All right,” she said at last. “Thank you.”

“You may also return to work,” he announced. “I will expect you in my office at eight in the morning.”

If he’d asked if she would like to return to work, she would have probably said yes. If he’d even hinted that she had a choice, or that it was her decision, everything would have been fine. But for him to have the nerve to give her permission to help him…She sucked in a breath and felt her temper beginning to rise.

“I don’t think so,” she said coolly, as she rose to her feet. She crossed to the open French doors and stepped out onto the balcony. The sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon, leaving the ocean a dark and mysterious glimmering slate of blackness. She stared out into the night sky and pretended to be fascinated by the stars.

“I am giving you my permission,”
Khalil
said as he followed her onto the marble balcony.

“Yes, I know. I’m telling you that I’m not interested.” She smiled sweetly.

“I want you working for me.”

She shrugged. “I want you to apologize for what you said to me in New York, for lying and for tricking me into marriage. I want you to admit that you were wrong, and then I want you to tell me that you care about me. I suspect that neither of us is going to get what we want.”

She heard him take a step toward her. “You will not toy with me, wife.”

Finally she turned to face him. “And here I thought that was what you wanted.”

His expression tightened. “I am
Khalil
Khan, prince—”

She cut him off with a wave. “Prince of El
Bahar
. Yes, I know. I’ve heard this speech a hundred times before. What exactly is your point?”

He froze in place, obviously stunned by her impertinence. Dora was a little surprised herself, but in a good way. Maybe she’d needed time alone to give her the courage to stand up to
Khalil
. Right or wrong, it was the only way she knew to change things. As much as she might tell herself she wanted a divorce and to go back home, the truth was a little less clear. In her heart of hearts she was willing to admit that she would prefer to stay here—but only as
Khalil’s
true wife. He didn’t have to love her but he had to care about her and treat her with respect.

“Being the prince doesn’t give you the right to use people,” she went on, praying her courage lasted five seconds longer than his visit. “You were cruel to me. You lied, and you treated me as if my feelings had no consequence. You took advantage of my innocence.”

“I married you.”

“Right. As if being married to you is any kind of picnic.”

He took one more step closer. Now he was within touching distance…as was she. He took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb across her palm. Instantly shivers rippled through her as heat flamed and her body came to life. She disentangled herself and retreated to the railing.

“Come to work for me,” he said.

Ignoring her still tingling palm, she smiled. “I’m the princess of El
Bahar
. I don’t work. Besides—” She held up her hands “My henna hasn’t worn off. Tradition states—”

This time he was the one to cut her off. “I’m well aware of the tradition. I was born here.” He glared. “If this is what you wish, so be it. You may stay in your rooms but do not attempt to leave them. You will exist within these four walls. For all I care, you can rot here.” He spun on his heel and headed for the door.

Dora swallowed. She heard Fatima’s words again—the ones about winning the battle but losing the war. Was she doing that again? To live by another quote, pride goes before the fall. Did she really want to spend all her time alone in this suite?

“
Khalil
?” she called before she could stop herself. “I’ll come work with you, but not as your secretary.”

He paused in midstride. “I suppose you want to run the country.”

She ignored his sarcasm. “No,” she said as she crossed to stand next to him. “I want to work with the Western companies who have come here to do business. I’ve been doing a lot of reading in the past couple of days.” She motioned to the stack of magazines and books by the sofa. “There isn’t a single department to coordinate the efforts of Western companies interested in setting up facilities here in El
Bahar
. I want to be a facilitator between the government and the private companies in the West. I have plenty of experience working with corporate America, and I’m learning more each day about El
Bahar
.”

He stared at her but didn’t speak.

“It makes sense,” she went on quickly, trying to hang on to her rapidly fading courage. “As a member of the royal family, I would be considered more of a figurehead than a policymaker. That will appease men in government. The companies interested in coming here will be impressed that El
Bahar
would put a woman in such a visible position.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “You are my wife.”

“I’m aware of that.”

He turned away. Dora held her breath, then let it out slowly. The idea had come to her in the night, but she hadn’t known who to talk to. She doubted she was much in favor with any member of the family right now. So she’d decided she would just wait for the right opportunity. Was it too soon? Should she have gone to work as
Khalil’s
secretary for a few weeks first, gaining his trust, before she approached him with her idea?

Too late now, she thought, and didn’t have a clue as to what she would do if he said no.

“You would have to work under the jurisdiction of my office,” he said, not looking at her. He seemed to be studying a portrait of an old man on the far wall.

Her heart began to thunder in her chest. Was he really saying yes? “That isn’t a problem.”

“You would not be allowed to meet alone with any man, and you must dress conservatively. Otherwise my reputation will be called into question.”

“I understand. I have no desire to meet alone with any man, and conservative dress is fine with me.”

He looked at her. She tried to read his expression, but couldn’t. What was he thinking? Why had he agreed?

“For the sake of appearances, we will need to be the happy couple,” he told her. “You will take lunch with me each day.”

Her tension eased, and a spark of hope burst to life. She remembered their working lunches in New York. Some of the time had been spent dealing with business, but much of their conversation had been more personal. They’d argued politics, discussed books and music. She remembered the heated debates, the laughter, the teasing. She’d missed those times so much—had
Khalil
missed them as well?

“I would like that very much,” she said.

“Good. Then we are agreed.”

He smiled at her, a slow satisfied smile of a male who had gotten his way. Some of Dora’s happiness faded. Please, God, don’t let him spoil the moment by trying to make it more. But God was busy, or
Khalil
had a mind of his own, for her husband cupped her face in his hands and stared down at her.

“I want you,” he told her.

His words were like a slap. She was a fool to think that anything had changed between them. She stiffened and willed herself to move away, but it was already too late. Just the feel of hands against her jaw and cheeks was enough to melt both her bones and her resolve. She was trapped in a web of her own making—desiring a man she both wanted and hated.

“Don’t,” she said, at last jerking free of his gentle touch. “I don’t feel well.”

Khalil
grabbed her by her upper arms and hauled her against him. When she was pressed flush against him, he rotated his hips, grinding his erection into her belly.

“Call me names,” he growled. “Fight me, hit me, hate me, refuse me, but do not lie to me.”

She felt her eyes burning with tears and loathed herself for the weakness. “Of course. Lying is your job.”

Instead of getting angry, he smiled. “I thought I was marrying someone sensible, but a bit boring. Instead I find myself with a feisty, sexual wildcat. Do you bite, little kitten of mine? I know you try to scratch, although your claws aren’t sharp enough.”

“I hate you,” she shouted, struggling to get free. “You are nothing but a manhandling piece of pond scum, and I never want to see you again.” His fingers held on tight and he didn’t let her go. Finally she stopped the fruitless attempt to break free and glared at him. “I will never surrender willingly.”

“So many absolutes,” he murmured, lowering his head and brushing her lips with his. “So many promises. How much energy you waste. And here I was hoping you’d be more aggressive in bed.”

She tried to raise her hand to slap him, but he held her arms firmly at her side and laughed. “I assume your temper means that you feel fine?” he asked.

“I’m not sick, I just don’t want to have sex with you.”

He released one arm and slowly pulled up her dress. She knew what he was going to do and told herself to run, for pride’s sake, if nothing else. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t turn away. She could only stare into his eyes as he slipped his hand into her panties, then moved lower until he touched her waiting dampness. She shuddered as he rubbed against her swollen core.

“Who’s the liar now?” he asked, then kissed her.

Dora didn’t answer. Not because she was too busy kissing him back, but because she didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t deny her body’s obvious reaction to his nearness. And later, when they were both naked and his tongue caressed every part of her, she couldn’t quiet her moans of pleasure.

Once again, her husband had been victorious.

Dora paused outside the entrance to the office wing of the palace and smoothed her sweaty hands on her skirt. She’d thrown down the gauntlet, and
Khalil
had responded. She now had an office of her own, a title and even an assistant. The question was—did she know how to do the job?

She resisted the urge to run back to her lonely quarters and send
Khalil
a message telling him she’d just been kidding. Because it was a joke. Did she really think she had the training and experience required to act as liaison between the El
Baharian
government and Fortune 500 companies wanting to set up offices or manufacturing facilities? El
Bahar
was a peaceful country with a reputation of being the Switzerland of the Middle East so corporations interested in expansion in this part of the world frequently began in El
Bahar
. She was meddling in a multibillion-dollar arena, and she had absolutely no idea what she’d been thinking.

Except that she’d spent most of her time alone reading business magazines and books, and the common theme she’d come across was the difficulty companies had when expanding internationally. She’d had some experience with that while working for Gerald. He’d been a jerk and more than willing to let her shoulder his responsibilities whenever possible. Was that enough training? She drew in a deep breath and opened the door leading to the suites of offices. She supposed she was about to find out.

The frosted-glass double doors led into a large, plush waiting area decorated with leather sofas and fabulous Impressionist paintings. It took her a second to realize that they were all originals. She found herself wanting to pause in front of the huge canvases, then remembered she was here to work, not admire, and approached the trim middle-aged man sitting behind an oversize desk. He looked up and smiled.

“Good morning, Your Highness. I’m Martin
Wingbird
. Prince
Khalil
told me you would be arriving this morning. May I have the honor of showing you to your office?”

The man was perfectly dressed in a tailored suit, and his accent was British. From what Dora had been able to figure out, much of the staff was international. While she was still living in the harem, Fatima had entertained her with stories about wild arguments between the two head chefs, one of whom was French, the other American and a woman. Apparently while they avoided blows, they weren’t above throwing the crockery at each other.

“Thank you, Mr.
Wingbird
.”

Behind the main reception desk, two corridors jutted out, one going left, the other right. Martin took the left corridor, walking briskly down a long, carpeted hallway. Dora hurried after him as best she could. She’d dressed in a long, straight skirt that came nearly to her ankles. While it was conservative enough to meet any exacting standards, it also prevented her from taking long strides.

They passed several large offices, complete with computers, faxes and copy machines. The desert might be only a half dozen or so miles away, but here in the palace, the staff had long moved into the modern age.

As they approached the end of the corridor, Dora saw two massive doors standing open. Three assistants, two men and a woman, worked in front of two more doors.

“Prince
Khalil’s
staff is here,” Martin
Wingbird
said. “And that door on the left leads to your office.”

He introduced the assistants, and she found that the lone female, a beautiful Asian woman named Eva, worked for her.

Dora had to smile. “I’m curious about the staffing arrangements,” she told Martin. “Do I have a woman working for me because no man would dare work for a woman in this country, or is it a matter of propriety? And if it’s the latter, what is to prevent the staff from crossing the line?”

Martin’s serious expression didn’t change, but she saw a flicker of humor in his blue eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know, ma’am.”

“How clever of you. In your position, I wouldn’t know, either.” She nodded. “Thank you for you help, Martin.”

“My pleasure, Your Highness.” He bowed once and left.

Eva had already opened the door to Dora’s office, and now the assistant led the way inside. Dora followed her into a plush space filled with French country-style furniture, paintings of flowers and a large spray of roses in a vase on the coffee table in front of a small sitting area. Windows gave her a view of a formal English garden.

She looked around at the bright colors in the Oriental rug and the little touches of lace on the throw pillows tossed casually on the sofa. “The room is so perfect, I want to believe it has been decorated just for me,” Dora said more to herself than to Eva. But that wasn’t possible. She and
Khalil
had spoken about her working for him less than forty-eight hours ago. The office couldn’t have been put together that quickly, could it?

“Prince
Khalil
arranged everything himself,” Eva said. “He spent all of yesterday overseeing everything.” She smiled. “Your husband was most particular about the furniture he chose and had many items sent back into storage before he approved this.”

Khalil
? Her husband? The man who demanded his way in everything, most especially her submission to him? She couldn’t imagine him caring about decor, let alone picking out furniture and throw pillows.

Eva walked over to the desk and touched a few keys on the computer. “I’ve begun to work on your calendar,” she said. “You have two meetings scheduled for this afternoon. They’re to introduce you to the local presidents of two of our largest foreign banks.”

The woman kept speaking, but Dora could no longer hear the words. She’d gone into panic mode, wondering what on earth she’d thought when she’d told
Khalil
she’d wanted this particular job. She was going to fall on her butt and it was going to be very public and very—

“Your Highness?” Eva asked. “Is everything all right?”

The young woman was exceptionally pretty, with beautiful, thick hair cut in a fashionable wedge and a long jacket and skirt outlining a slender body.

“I’m fine,” Dora assured her. “Would you please upload files on those two presidents and their banks. I’m interested in their last yearly report, figures we have for the most recent two quarters, as well as copies of articles from local papers. I want to see what kind of press they’ve been getting in El
Bahar
. Oh, and general information on banking in general. The number of local versus foreign banks, the percent of citizens using local banks rather than foreign banks, any estimations on offshore accounts here.”

Eva scribbled notes as Dora talked. “Anything else, Your Highness?”

Dora sighed. “I know it’s important to address me respectfully, Eva, but we’re going to have to come up with something shorter than ‘Your Highness.”’

Eva smiled. “I’ll get right on all of this, ma’am.”

“You do that. Let me know when you start uploading files to my computer.”

Eva nodded and started to leave, but before she could pull the door shut behind her,
Khalil
appeared and pushed his way inside.

Her office was a big room, but
Khalil
stood well over six feet, and with him filling the space, the walls seemed to shrink together. Dora looked at her husband, half enjoying, half hating the swell of gladness that rushed through her. Despite the fact that he made her crazy, he was a very handsome man and easy to look at.

Today he wore a tailored suit that emphasized the powerful lines of his body…a body that she’d touched and tasted the previous evening until they were both breathless with desire. She’d kept true to her word and resisted him whenever he tried to make love with her. He’d also told the truth when he’d promised to seduce her night after night. They were playing a silly game, and she wasn’t sure when it was going to end, or how they were going to determine a winner. She only knew that she was ridiculously happy to see him and that she was going to do her best to keep him from knowing.

“Do you like it?” he asked, prowling around the room. “My office is right next door. I know you would have preferred something on your own, but there are proprieties. The king wasn’t sure about the wife of a prince going to work, even as a liaison.”

Dora hadn’t thought of that. “I’m sorry,
Khalil
. Did I make trouble between you and your father?”

He shrugged. “He came around.”

He paused in front of her desk and ran his fingers across the smooth surface. The deeply colored wood had been polished until it gleamed and reflected the brass lamp sitting by the desk blotter.

He walked to the armoire by the door and pulled it open. “The printer is in here, along with your own fax machine. It will be quieter in the cabinet. There’s a small button on your desk that will tell you when you have a fax coming in.”

He moved back to the desk and touched the phone. “My number is preprogrammed. Just push star-one and you’ll be connected right to my office.
Malik
is star-two and Jamal is star-three.”

“Why would I need to call your brothers?”

Khalil
straightened and looked at her. “You’ll be taking over projects from all of us. While I’m responsible for all resource development, except for oil, as well as assisting emerging industries, Jamal handles the country’s finances while
Malik
looks after our oil interests and, as the crown prince and heir, represents El
Bahar
abroad. All of us have dealings with foreign businesses. Your responsibilities will put you in contact with all three of us on a regular basis.”

Dora swallowed and tried not to let her nervousness show. Once again she realized she’d been arrogant and presumptuous in her request for this job. She hadn’t thought through the scope of what she would be doing.

“I’ve asked Eva to schedule introductory meetings over the next few days,” he said. “They should get you up to speed. As you’re my wife, you’ll be reporting directly to me.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, still stunned by her blunder. Could she really do this?

“You’re not afraid, are you?”

She looked up and squared her shoulders. “Of course not. I’m more than capable.”

Khalil’s
gaze was steady, as if he knew she was terrified. But he was obviously willing to let her bluff her way through. She decided that however much work it took, she would master this job and make both of them proud of her.

She crossed to her desk and took a seat. “So, do I get paid?”

She’d meant the comment as a joke, but
Khalil
didn’t smile. “Why would you need the money?”

To be honest, she hadn’t much thought about it. “I suppose I don’t.”

He braced his hands on the desk and leaned forward, crowding her and making her want to roll her chair away. “Make no mistake about your place in all of this. You are my wife, and you will stay my wife.”

His direct gaze burned down to her very confused heart. Until that moment, Dora had assumed that
Khalil
was going to find a way to divorce her. She still didn’t understand all the circumstances of their marriage. She knew what she’d believed and what Amber had said, but the truth remained a mystery. Did he really plan to keep her in his life?

“I will not let you go,” he told her. “El
Bahar
does not permit a royal wife to divorce her husband without his consent, and I will never agree.”

Oddly enough, his words comforted her. Despite their differences, or maybe because of them, she didn’t want to go. A part of her was still hoping for the dream of a fantasy prince to love her forever. Which only proved she hadn’t learned a damn thing, despite having her heart broken by two men in less than two months.

“You were amazing last night,” he said, abruptly changing the subject. He continued to stare at her, and she saw the fire glowing in his eyes. Fire that instantly sparked an answering flame deep in her woman’s place.

“Thank you,” she murmured. Last night she’d been bold. Once he’d broken through her initial reserve, she’d attacked him, touching him, taking him in her hands and then in her mouth. She still remembered his shocked cries of pleasure.

The memory made her squirm against her seat. Her panties grew damp as her breasts swelled. “
Khalil
…”

He smiled, the slow, satisfied smile of a male who had won. “I knew you would come around. You want me. Admit it.”

Her passion fled as quickly as it had arrived. She straightened and stared at him with cold disinterest. “Just because I’m your wife doesn’t mean you have the right to sexually harass me,
Khalil
. While we’re in the office, I want to discuss business and nothing else.”

He straightened and glared at her. “How do you do that? How can you want me one minute and then freeze me out the next? Why won’t you give in on this? You know I will win in the end.”

“Will you?” She shrugged. “I happen to think I’m going to win. I can be very stubborn.”

“I know. It’s not your most attractive feature.”

“Would you like a list of your own faults?”

His look of surprise nearly made her smile. “I have no faults.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Honey, you have a list so long, I’d get a cramp in my hand if I tried to write it.”