The Sheikh's Virgin Bride

‘How very much the epitome of a nervous virgin you look and sound right now! Are you one?’

Her face burning even hotter, Petra told him fiercely, ‘You have no right to ask me that kind of question.’

Laughing softly, Blaize shook his head. ‘Who would have thought it? Now you have surprised me! A nervous virgin who wants to be considered openly sexually available. You really don’t want this marriage, do you?’

‘I’ve just told you I am not prepared to discuss my…my personal private life with you…’

‘Even though you expect me to publicly convince others that I am very much a part of that personal private life…very, very much a part of it?’ he said softly.

There was a look in his eyes that was making Petra’s insides quiver with tension and indignation. How dared he make fun of her? It occurred to her that somehow or other he had managed to turn their relationship around so that he was the one who was in control of what was happening rather than her. A presentiment shiver brushed over her skin, warning her that she might be in danger of getting herself involved in a situation that she ultimately could not control. But before she could analyse her fears properly the doorbell to her suite suddenly rang, the shrilling sound activating her inner alarm system and throwing her body into immediate anxiety.

‘It’s okay,’ Blaize informed her easily. ‘That will be Room Service. I ordered something to eat.’

‘You ordered…’ Petra stared at him, and then looked frantically towards the suite door as the bell rang again. ‘You can’t—’ she began, and then stopped, pink-cheeked, as she realised Blaize was laughing softly at her.

‘You know,’ he said, ‘I think that this is going to be fun. Have you any idea how tempting it is to really shock you, little Miss Prim?’

Still laughing, he leaned forward and cupped her face with his hand, brushing her unsuspecting mouth with his own before releasing her and disappearing into the bathroom just before the suite door opened and the meal he had ordered was brought in.

‘Panic over?’

Automatically Petra looked towards Blaize as he emerged from the bathroom, still wearing merely the towel, with an electric razor in one hand whilst he smoothed the skin of his newly shaved jaw with the other. Then she quickly looked away as her heart did a triple-flip before losing its balance and slamming heavily into her chest wall.

What on earth was the matter with her? So he was having a shave. So what?

So what? The voice of moral female indignation inside her retorted angrily; what he was doing was an act of deliberate male intimacy…shaving in her suite…in her bathroom…

‘Mmm. I could get used to this,’ he told her appreciatively as he studied the well-laden trolley. ‘Pour me a cup of coffee, would you?’ he called out to her as he turned back towards the bathroom. ‘Black and strong, no sugar.’

Pour him a coffee! Who on earth did he think he was?

‘Oh, by the way,’ he told her, pausing as he reached the bathroom door. ‘I’ve already booked us a table at The Venue for tonight, and told them to bill it to your room. We were lucky. They were virtually fully booked. Are you sure you don’t feel like short-circuiting things? I could move in here and…’

‘No!’

Petra’s denial was an explosive sound of outrage and panic, but far from shaming him it just seemed to add to her tormentor’s amusement.

Relaxing against the open doorway, he told her wickedly, ‘You know, I think I could really enjoy making this seduction the real thing, if you want me to.’

‘No.’ This time her denial was even more vehement, her eyes huge and storm-lashed as she added in a strangled voice, ‘Never.’

‘Ah, yes! I forgot that you’re saving yourself for the man of your dreams! Well, take care he doesn’t turn into a nightmare…Is that my coffee?’ he added easily, coming to rescue the cup that she was in danger of overfilling.

Furious with herself for her automatic response to his original request, Petra snatched the cup back from him.

‘No, it isn’t’ she denied. ‘It’s mine. You can pour your own.’

Unperturbed, he shrugged and reached for the coffee pot, leaving Petra to digest her hollow victory along with the bitterly strong coffee she had claimed.

Broodingly she watched as Blaize tucked into the meal he had ordered with obvious relish. This wasn’t what she had envisaged when she had initially approached him. What she had had in mind was an open and obvious flirtation on the beach, perhaps a couple of very public outings and maybe a meal together thrown in.

‘Come and sit down and have something to eat. I ordered enough for both of us,’ Blaize told her.

‘So I see,’ Petra agreed waspishly.

There was no way she could let her family pay for whatever Blaize had added to her bill. Thankfully she had come away with plenty of traveller’s cheques and her credit cards, and her godfather—no doubt motivated by guilt—had pressed a very generous sum of money on her before he had left for the far east.

‘I’m a working man,’ Blaize told her cheerfully.

‘I’m glad you reminded me,’ Petra replied. ‘And, talking of your work, shouldn’t you…?’

‘Don’t worry,’ he assured her. ‘I had some leave owing to me, so I’ve arranged to take some time off. That way I can be free to do whatever you want me to do. If our Rashid is prepared to take you sight unseen, so to speak, then I dare say he’s going to be pretty hard to shift. So you and I are going to have to make sure that we’re convincing. Are you sure you don’t want me to move in here?’ he pressed, looking wistfully at her large bed.

‘Perfectly sure,’ Petra told him through gritted teeth. ‘And just as soon as you’ve finished I would be grateful if you would get dressed and leave.’

‘Leave? So soon? I thought we could spend some time getting to know one another a little better.’

To Petra’s chagrin she knew that her expression had betrayed her even before he started to laugh.

‘You’re going to have to do much better than this if you expect to convince anyone that you’ve ever done anything more than exchange chaste kisses with a man—never mind that you and I are lovers,’ he warned her when he had stopped laughing.

‘The whole purpose of my paying you is that your reputation is dire enough to do the convincing for both of us!’ Petra reminded him flintily.

‘You look very hot and uncomfortable,’ Blaize responded, ignoring both her comment and her ire. ‘I can recommend the shower. In fact, if you like—’

‘No! Don’t you dare…’ Petra stopped him, hot-cheeked.

‘Dare what?’ he asked her mock innocently. ‘I was only going to say that I could alter the height of the shower head for you if you wanted me to.’

Petra gave him a fulminating look.

‘Thank you, but I’m perfectly capable of doing that for myself,’ she told him.

She bitterly regretted having let slip to him the fact that she was still a virgin. He obviously thought it hugely entertaining and would no doubt continue to goad and tease her about it. Unless she found a way of stopping him!

Petra tensed as the telephone in her suite started to ring. Before answering it she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She had almost finished getting ready and she was wearing her new cream trouser suit. Warily she picked up the receiver, only to discover that her caller was her aunt.

‘I meant to ring you earlier,’ she apologised. ‘Are you all right? I feel so guilty about leaving you on your own.’

As she assured her that she was fine, Petra waited for her aunt to make a firm arrangement for her to visit her family and finally meet her grandfather. But instead of issuing any invitation there was a small awkward silence from her aunt, and then an unconvincing and rushed explanation that certain family obligations meant it would not be possible for them to spend any time with her on the following day.

‘At least your grandfather is feeling a little better. Although the doctor says that he must still rest. He is longing to see you, Petra, and—’

If anything her aunt’s voice sounded even more unconvincing, Petra reflected bitterly.

Well she certainly wasn’t going to turn herself into a liar by saying that she was longing to see him. She had no idea what he was hoping to achieve by what he was doing, unless it was to make her feel so isolated and alone that she practically fell into her proposed suitor’s arms out of gratitude to him for rescuing her from her solitude.

‘It is such a pity that my own family, my sisters and their children, are out of the country right now,’ her aunt was continuing. ‘But as soon as Rashid gets back—’