Forbidden: The Sheikh's Virgin

Sera looked to the Sheikha, who smiled and put her hennastained hand over the younger woman’s. ‘One moment, my child.’ And then his mother turned to Rafiq and sighed wistfully. ‘There is another party interested and ready to sign for exclusive rights to the collection. If you delay, and wait for your buyer to arrive…’ she shrugged for effect ‘…it will no doubt already be too late.’

‘Who is this other party?’ But he already suspected the answer, even before his mother confirmed it by giving the name of the biggest importer of Arab goods in the world. Strictly speaking they weren’t competitors. He was content to dominate the southern hemisphere while they took the north, each keeping out of the other’s way. But to demand exclusivity on a range of goods made right here, in the country of his birth? That had never been part of their unspoken agreement.

He caught his mother’s cool-eyed gaze assessing him again, and allowed himself a smile. It had never occurred to him before, but maybe he owed at least some of his business acumen to his mother. What else could have prompted him to look up a business opportunity while he was here for his brother’s coronation but the thrill of the chase?

‘I suppose,’ he conceded, ‘I could go and look at the collection while I am here. Is the workshop here, in Shafar?’

She shook her head. ‘No, it is in the town of Marrash, in the mountain country to the north.’

He summoned up a mental map of Qusay, trying and unable to place the town, but knowing that if it was in the rugged red mountains of the north transport would be difficult and by necessity slow. He shook his head. ‘Travelling there would take at least a day. It is not practical, given it is so close to the coronation. Is there nowhere in Shafar to view this so-called collection?’

‘There is only this one sample here in the palace, but there is plenty of time before the coronation—it is no more than an overnight trip. And you would have to travel to Marrash if you wished to deal with the tribespeople. They would not do business otherwise.’

‘But what of Kareef? I have only just arrived in Qusay. What kind of support would I be to my brother if I were to up and leave him a few short days before his coronation?’

‘He would think you are a businessman with an eye to business. He would be more surprised if you did not pursue an opportunity such as this. Besides, I suspect he will be busy enough with arrangements as it is.’

He supposed she was right. And it was one way of making the most of his time in Qusay. Why not combine business with pleasure? It had been a long time since he had ventured across the desert to the mountains of red stone. A very long time…

‘I’ll go,’ he said, nodding, ‘I’ll explain to Kareef and get Akmal to organise a driver.’

‘You’ll need a guide too, to smooth the negotiations.’ He was about to protest when she held up one hand softly. ‘You might now be a prince, my son, but you are still a man. You will need someone who knows the women and understands their needs, someone who can talk to them as an equal. I would go myself, but of course…’ she shrugged ‘…with so many guests in the palace, and while we wait on news of Tahir, there is no way I can excuse myself. I can send one of my companions. They have all travelled extensively throughout Qusay with me, talking to the women, listening to their needs so that we might better look after our people.’

He noticed the sudden panicked look in Sera’s eyes as she sought out his mother’s, and wondered absently what her problem was. There was no way his mother would send her to accompany him; she knew only too well what his feelings would be at the suggestion. And there was no way he would take her if she did. In fact, instead of looking panicked she should look relieved. With him out in the desert for a couple of days and no chance of running into each other, without the constant resurfacing of memories best left forgotten, she should be relieved. He knew he was.

‘Who did you have in mind?’

His mother gestured to a woman sitting patiently in one corner amongst the drapes that lined the walls. ‘Amira can accompany you.’

She was older than his mother, with deep lines marking the passage of time in her cheeks, and her spine curved when she stood, but it was the expression of another woman that snared his attention. Sera looked as if she’d just escaped a fate worse than death.

It rankled. He had no wish to spend time with her, but did her relief have to be so palpable? Anyone would think she regarded the prospect of two days in his company with even more revulsion than he did. How could that be possible? It wasn’t as if he was the one who had betrayed her. What was she so afraid of—unless she feared that he might somehow try to exact his revenge?

Revenge?

His mother was talking, saying something to Amira, but he wasn’t listening. He was too busy thinking. Too busy making his own plans. He looked across at the figure in black, hunched and cowed, her eyes looking everywhere but at him, no doubt wanting nothing more but that he might disappear into the desert with Amira to accompany him.

Did she really find the idea of being with him more appalling than he found the prospect of being with her? The gears of his mind crunched in unfamiliar ways, dredging up memories in their cogs, reassembling them into a different pattern, different possibilities.

Maybe there was something here he could turn to his advantage after all.

She’d never paid for what she’d done. She’d never so much as been called to account. She’d simply turned her back on him and walked away.

Why shouldn’t he take advantage of this opportunity to even things up?

‘I thank Amira,’ he said, turning back to his mother and smiling at the older woman. ‘But it is an arduous journey into the mountains that will by necessity be rushed and uncomfortable. I would hate to subject Amira to that. Perhaps I might suggest another idea—someone younger perhaps?’

It was the turn of the older woman to look relieved, while the hunched form alongside his mother tensed, the colour draining from her features. He allowed himself a smile. This might be even more satisfying than he’d imagined.

‘Sera can accompany me.’

His mother’s eyes turned to him in surprise, but it was nothing compared to the look he saw on Sera’s upturned face. Disbelief combined with sheer horror, her black eyes brimming with fear.

An expression he would treasure for ever.

CHAPTER THREE

HE COULD not be serious! ‘Please, no,’ she pleaded of the Sheikha, who must see the moisture clinging to her lashes, who must know how impossible was the thing he was asking. ‘Sheikha, please…’

But, while the Sheikha looked troubled, and squeezed her hand, it was to Rafiq she turned—Rafiq, who looked as if he was about to declare war. ‘You are my son,’ she said, ‘and a Qusani prince. You know I can deny you nothing. But are you sure about this?’

‘I have never been more sure in my life.’

‘But, Sheikha, please…’

‘Sera,’ she said with a sigh, patting the younger woman’s hands where they lay twisted and knotted in her lap, ‘it will be fine. My son is nothing if not a gentleman. You have nothing to be concerned about. Has she, Rafiq?’

And through the screen of her lashes she saw Rafiq smile, the slow, lazy smile of a jungle cat sizing up its next meal. It was a miracle, she thought, that he managed not to lick his lips. She shivered as a chill descended her spine.

‘Of course, not. Nothing to worry about at all,’ he said, in a steady, measured voice that terrified her all the more for its calm, yet deadly intent.

Nothing to worry about? Then why had she never been more afraid in her life?

The two four-wheel drives were packed, loaded with water and supplies in case of breakdowns while crossing the vast desert sands on their way to the mountains, and their drivers were waiting. Already a truck had been sent out to make camp where the desert met the sea, where Akmal had recommended they stop for the night before attempting the steep ascent up into the mountains.

Rafiq just shook his head. It almost seemed like overkill, to pack so much for no more than a two-day trip, but he knew from experience that the desert was an unpredictable mistress, fickle and capricious, and as lethal as she was beautiful. Still, he had no plans to prolong this trip, and with any luck the camp would not be necessary. He intended to get there and back as quickly as possible.

Sera hung back, clinging close to where his mother stood in the shade of the porticoed entrance, her eyes, when he did managed to catch sight of them, troubled and pained.

Finally Akmal was satisfied that the last of the provisions had been properly stowed, the engines idling to power the airconditioning units that would cool the interiors and make the arduous journey through the desert bearable. He bowed his head in Rafiq’s direction. ‘All is in readiness, Your Highness. Whenever you are ready?’

‘Thank you, Akmal.’

‘Safe journey, my son,’ said his mother, meeting him halfway as he leaned down to kiss her age-softened cheek. ‘Take care of Sera.’

‘Of course,’ he promised. ‘I intend to do just that.’

And then he smiled and accepted her blessing, before making for the first car to talk to the driver.

He pulled open the passenger door and saw in the rearvision mirror his mother holding Sera’s hands, their heads close together as his mother uttered a few last words to her. Was she once again guaranteeing her son’s good behaviour? Promising Sera that her virtue was safe with him? She needn’t bother. Knowing she was uncomfortable in his presence was all the sport he desired. He had no wish to touch her.

He would not give her the satisfaction.

There was a flash of black robes as he saw Sera dash for what she must have assumed was the relative safety of the second car. He allowed himself a smile as he finished what he wanted to say to the driver, before closing the door and raising his hand to his mother one last time before striding towards it himself.

Shock turned her black-as-night eyes wide as he slid into the seat alongside her. A moment later she turned both her face and body away, shrinking against the door as if she might will herself right through it, and his feeling of satisfaction deepened.

She was terrified of him.