banner banner banner
The Sheik's Secret Bride
The Sheik's Secret Bride
Оценить:
Рейтинг: 0

Полная версия:

The Sheik's Secret Bride

скачать книгу бесплатно


“You’ll need to start by learning how to ride,” he said. “I would be happy to teach you.”

She stared at him and pressed her lips together. Her entire body quivered with excitement. “Really? You’d teach me on one of your horses?”

“Yes. I have an old gelding who has just the right temperament. He has a white star on his forehead, which makes him very handsome, although he’s not vain like Alexander here.”

“Thank you,” Bethany breathed reverently, then tilted her head and gave an exaggerated grimace. “Except I have to ask my mom, and I’m afraid she’ll say no.”

“Why would she do that?”

“I don’t know. Moms can be difficult sometimes.” Her expression brightened. “But maybe because you’re a prince and all, she won’t mind so much.” Bethany smiled. “I asked about you at school today and everyone says you’re going to be king of El Bahar one day.”

“That does seem to be the way things are going.”

“I think it would be very romantic to be a princess, but my mom doesn’t agree. You don’t exactly fit into her plan.”

Of that Malik was sure. Liana’s plan included enough money for a house and her daughter’s college education. From what he could tell, the single mother had tried to think of everything. He doubted a royal prince had figured into her expectations.

“I would still be happy to teach you to ride,” he said. “If you would like.”

“Oh, I’d like that very much. I’ll ask her right away.”

“Fine. If it’s all right with your mother, we’ll start tomorrow when you return from school.”

Bethany shrieked and jumped, gave him a quick, unexpected hug, then tore out of the stable as if her shoes were on fire. Alexander snorted his displeasure, but Malik didn’t agree with the horse’s assessment. To his mind, Bethany was a most charming young lady who admired him. Now if only he could find a way to make her mother as much of a fan.

Chapter Four

L iana paced around the living room, muttering under her breath. She could not believe this was happening to her. She felt as if she were trapped in some Victorian novel, perhaps as a governess newly arrived, only to find out that her employer had murdered his wife and was now raising the knife toward her. Ridiculous. Malik might be arrogant and annoying, but he wasn’t threatening her life, even if it did feel as if she was well and truly trapped.

She couldn’t get Carl Birmingham’s words out of her head—he’d said Prince Malik was a member of the board of directors at the American School. Not to mention the fact that she should be honored to be the prince’s guest.

“Honored,” she grumbled as she paused in front of the French doors to the balcony. “Yeah, right. Next he’ll be telling me not to worry my pretty little head about it.”

Her gaze settled on the view before her. The blue Arabian Sea stretched out to the horizon. It was dark and vivid and probably the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Slowly, she turned in a circle, taking in the exquisite horse murals, the expensive furniture, the objets d’art. The bedrooms were just as lovely and spacious, and was she crazy to want her own place rather than accepting the hospitality of a royal prince?

She was a single mother from San Bernardino. Her dad was a retired postal worker, her mom, a homemaker. Liana’s sister worked as a hairdresser. Liana herself, the only one in the family to make it through college, taught high-school math. And here she was complaining because she’d caught the attention of the Crown Prince of a wealthy and respected nation.

“Maybe I am insane,” she said aloud. “Maybe I should just give in and stay here. It’s not so horrible. After all, the food is great, and there are hot and cold running servants.”

Liana sank onto the sofa and took a deep breath. As tempting as the palace might be, she couldn’t stay because nothing was going to be that easy. She didn’t know why Prince Malik had brought her here, but she doubted it was because he thought she would be a great ornament. Did he expect her to sleep with him? Was this all about sex?

Liana bristled at the thought. In this day and age women were not kidnapped to be placed into a harem. At least not women like her, with twenty extra pounds settling on her hips and thighs and a body with the still-visible marks of childbirth.

No, she told herself. A handsome prince like him would want perfection. And he’d have plenty of choices—what with women falling all over him everywhere he went. Liana had felt the powerful chemistry of his attraction. She, too, had been all a-twitter at the thought of being close to someone like Malik. He’d made her heart race and her blood boil and whatever other fabulous phrases filled the pages of those romances she so adored reading. At least between the covers of those books, the women always found a wonderful man and sexual fulfillment. If only life were that tidy.

But it wasn’t, and, regardless of her wayward hormones, she had no intention of falling for Malik, either in or out of bed. Not that he was going to ask her, which brought her right back to where she’d started…what on earth was she doing here?

The suite door opened and Bethany sailed inside. Her bright eyes and glowing skin told of a wondrous adventure. Liana smiled and patted the cushion next to her on the sofa. “Come tell me all about it,” she told her daughter.

Bethany plopped down next to her and gave an exaggerated sigh. “There are so many horses,” she said, leaning against Liana. “Rooms and stables of them. They’re all big and pretty and Prince Malik was there and he introduced me to his favorite. Alexander the Great is a very vain horse. He looks at himself in the water, admiring his reflection!”

She gave a giggle of delight, as if a vain horse were a wondrous thing indeed. Liana was less amused. “Prince Malik was with you?” What on earth had he been doing in the stable?

Bethany nodded. “He talked to me and everything.” She straightened and looked at her mother. “He’s very nice. He said that he would like to teach me to ride and I told him that I had to talk to you first and make sure it’s all right, but I know it is because he said he has a very special horse that is perfect for a girl like me and I wouldn’t get hurt and you really wouldn’t mind, would you, because you know I’ve wanted to ride forever.” She paused to draw in a much needed breath. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted in the whole wide world.”

Blue eyes stared beseechingly up at her. Liana grabbed hold of the anger flaring inside of her. None of this was her daughter’s fault, she reminded herself. Bethany was an innocent in whatever game Prince Malik might be playing with them both. But she couldn’t ignore the fury building inside her. How dare that man use her daughter to get to her? Riding lessons. Yeah, right. Every good prince gave them to absolute strangers on a regular basis. It was probably part of their training.

She forced herself to smile at her daughter and smooth her bangs from her face. “I think learning to ride is a wonderful idea, and if it doesn’t work out here, I’ll check into it in the city. I’m sure there’s a stable close to the American School. Even with all the money we need to save, I’ll bet there’s enough left over for lessons.”

Her daughter opened her mouth to protest, but Liana stopped her with a shake of her head. “I need to talk to the prince first, Bethany. While I’m gone, please start on your homework. After dinner, I thought we’d watch a movie. Would you like to pick it?”

Bethany’s natural good nature asserted itself. “You won’t forget about the riding lessons?”

“I promise I won’t.”

“Okay.” Her daughter kissed her cheek, then stood and skipped out of the room. She paused in the doorway and glanced back at her mother. “I looked this morning and there are Disney movies on the shelves in my room, along with The Little Princess. ” She giggled. “Maybe we should watch that one.”

Liana looked at her daughter. Bethany was a pretty child. She still had freckles on her pert nose, and with her slender, athletic body, in a few short years she was going to be a heartbreaker. But for now she was still a little girl. Liana would do anything to protect her, even risk an international incident…or her job.

“The Little Princess sounds great. Will you be all right while I’m gone? I should be back in about twenty minutes.”

“I’m nine!” Bethany reminded her. “I’m not a baby.”

“I know. You’re practically a grandmother. Promise you’ll stay in the suite.”

“Promise,” Bethany called in a sing-song voice as she headed off to her room.

Liana waited until she heard the door close, then she rose to her feet and went in search of Prince Malik.

The palace was huge, and, in a matter of minutes, she found herself completely lost. All the long corridors looked similar enough to confuse her. By the time she’d passed the stone nymph fountain for the third time, she knew she wasn’t going to be able to find her way on her own. Of course, her journey was hampered by a lack of knowledge about her destination.

Finally Liana spotted a young servant and stopped the woman. She explained she was looking for Prince Malik. Complicated directions followed, ending with Liana being escorted to a large set of double doors.

“Here, ma’am,” the young woman said with a smile. “Prince Malik. Good evening to you both.”

“It won’t be a good evening for him,” Liana muttered as a way to gather her suddenly lacking courage. “I plan to tell him exactly what I think of him. How dare he thrust himself into our lives like this and expect…” She verbally stumbled as she realized she had no clue about his expectations, except a burning certainty that they couldn’t possibly either be acceptable or match her own.

That decided, she pounded on the door.

She fully expected to be let into a suite of offices and then to have to explain her presence to a host of secretaries and assistants. Instead, Prince Malik himself opened the door. The sight of him disconcerted her, as did his state of dress.

Liana stared and swallowed and vowed that this time she was going to ignore the heating, melting sensation filling her body. It’s not as if the man were naked, or even close to naked. He wore black slacks and a formal white shirt. He’d been in the process of slipping in cufflinks when he’d answered the door.

Dark eyes locked with hers and the intense expression there nearly caused her not to notice his still-damp hair and the clean look of his freshly shaven face. He was a handsome man—too handsome for comfort—and she had the most disconcerting urge to offer to finish fastening his cuffs for him.

“Liana,” he said, faint pleasure lacing his voice. “This is a surprise. I was on my way out for the evening.”

“I can tell,” she told him, firmly squashing the irrational flare of jealousy that ripped through her. Going out, was he? As in, with a woman? Fine by her. She didn’t care. In fact she was pleased he was going out because then he wouldn’t be around to bother her. Not that he’d been a bother, but he was keeping her here against her will which meant the bothering bit was bound to occur sooner or later.

“I have something to discuss with you, Your Highness,” she said, stepping into his suite. “While it won’t take very long, I consider it most important.”

“Of course you do,” he said with a smile, then motioned for her to take a seat on one of the large sofas in his living room. “And please, call me Malik.”

The request disconcerted her, which made no sense. She found herself slightly off balance and trying not to be intimidated by the luxury and grandeur of his living room.

He had the same view she did, although from a different angle, as his rooms were at the far end of the palace. There was no mural. Instead beautiful paintings covered the plain cream walls. She recognized a couple of the pieces from photos in books. Malik seemed to favor Impressionists, although there was a smaller collection of modern pieces in the dining area to their left.

Between the opulence, her racing heart and the heat rolling through her body like the tide, she was afraid she was going to pass out right there on the thick Oriental carpet that was probably older than the United States and worth more than a car. Then she remembered why she’d come in the first place.

Facing him and planting her hands on her hips, she said, “I don’t know what rules you’ve lived by in the past, nor do I care. I suppose you’re used to having your way and damn the consequences. Let me assure you I’m not someone to be trifled with, and I don’t care if you’re a prince or a king or the ruler of the universe. You will not use my daughter in your traitorous scheme. She is a wonderful, intelligent, active girl who deserves to be treated with respect. How dare you play with her emotions?”

Malik stared at her for several heartbeats. “Are you quite finished?”

“I haven’t even gotten started. I’m not afraid of you or your power. They mean nothing to me. It’s bad enough that you’ve brought me and Bethany here against our will. As I’m sure you know, I’ve spoken to Mr. Birmingham at the school and he’s informed me that you’re a member of the board. The inference was very clear. Either I do what you say or you have me fired. I can accept all of that, but to think you’d sink so low as to use an innocent child to get what you want. It’s disgusting. How dare you try to weasel your way into her affections—bribing her by offering to teach her to ride? She might be young and inexperienced and therefore gullible, but I am not.”

“A weasel?” Malik questioned. “Interesting choice. I’ve not seen a weasel, at least not in person. Now meerkats are something different. I’ve seen them in Africa. On a tour.”

He spoke blandly, as if they were discussing the weather.

Liana wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. “Are you even listening to me?”

“To every word, more’s the pity.” He took a step toward her and loomed over her. “The problem is you’re not making any sense.” With that, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her close.

Liana was so stunned she actually stopped breathing. All the air left her lungs, but she couldn’t seem to draw any back in. She went willingly because she couldn’t command herself to move away. No messages were getting through to her nervous system. What was he doing and why was he doing it? She hated being this close to him, hated the way…

Suddenly, his mouth came down on hers. The action shouldn’t have surprised her, yet she couldn’t believe it was happening. The warm pressure of his lips moved against her in a way that left her feeling branded and impossibly aroused. His grip on her was firm and unyielding, forcing her up against him until they touched completely from shoulder to knee. Her breasts flattened against his broad chest and her hands were trapped between her hipbone and his thigh.

She told herself to protest, to object, to squirm and pull away…but it had been a long time since a man had done this to her, and she was too weak to fight him.

Malik shifted, freeing her arms. He used one hand to brush against her back and the other to cradle her head, as if he feared she might pull away.

There was something about his lips—the heat, the firm softness, the way he took control while at the same time inviting her to come along on a sensual journey she couldn’t begin to imagine. Or maybe it was his body, right next to hers, hard and unyielding to her feminine curves. Her breasts felt so good pressing against his chest. Her nipples were hard points of desire. Her hips seemed to be pulsing and thrusting of their own free will. She didn’t understand her body or herself for not pushing away. In fact she found herself raising her arms until they encircled his neck. She drew herself up on her toes so that her body fit better against his.

He was kissing her with slow, sweet kisses that were almost innocent, yet incredibly seductive. The masculine scent of him surrounded her, filling her with an intoxication that she knew she would remember for the rest of her life. It was not just that she would now be able to find him in the dark—she would crawl over broken glass for the privilege of inhaling that scent one last time before she died.

Then he brushed her lower lip with his tongue. One slow, deliberate act of passion that nearly made her cry out. Without thinking she parted her lips to admit him, aware that she was crossing a line, and that once she did so, there could be no retreat. She wanted him with a desperation that left her shattered and afraid. Yet, as he entered her, she welcomed him with darting brushes of her tongue against his.

And then whatever civility still existed between them disappeared, burned to dust by the explosion that rocked through her like lightning cutting through a tree. She shook violently as he invaded her mouth. No longer gentle or smooth, he plunged and explored like a man on an urgent mission. He discovered the secrets of her mouth, what made her surge toward him, what made her gasp. He buried his fingers into her thick hair and moved them up and down her back. He slipped lower and cupped her behind, squeezing the full curves and making her pulse against him in a way designed to make them both think of the ultimate act of love.

She found herself wanting to tear off her clothes, to expose herself to him so that he would know how much she wanted him. She thought about them making love right here, on the sofa, or perhaps on the dining-room table. She needed him the way she needed air, and knew that if she didn’t have him right now, she wouldn’t survive.

The sense of being out of control was so unfamiliar that it shocked her into stepping away from him. Without wanting to, she raised her fingers to her mouth and pressed them against her throbbing skin. Her body still trembled and the heat continued to pour through her, arousing her to a fevered pitch.

“I can’t,” she whispered, not sure if she meant she couldn’t do that again, or if she couldn’t bear to stop.

Malik’s dark gaze was unreadable, his expression as hard as his body had been. He seemed to be caught up in his own private hell, and she wondered if she’d been the only one to feel the fire between them. What a cruel joke of fate that would be—that the first man to make her understand what all the fuss was about when it came to passion was also a man who was immune to her. Could that be possible? Had she been the only one to feel the intensity of their connection?


Вы ознакомились с фрагментом книги.
Для бесплатного чтения открыта только часть текста.
Приобретайте полный текст книги у нашего партнера:
Полная версия книги
(всего 390 форматов)