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‘Naturally.’ Was that a hint of sarcasm in his deep voice? His dark eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion and she thought she’d gone too far.
‘I would need to see the horse first.’ She kept her tone brisk, her gaze fixed on his handsome face, hardly able to believe he was accepting the conditions she was attaching to the agreement.
‘In that case, my private jet will be at your disposal to fly you to Kezoban as soon as you are ready.’ A smile of satisfaction touched his lips and those intensely dark eyes held hers, sending that spark rushing through her again, but she pushed the sensation aside, wanting only to ignore it.
‘Your private jet?’ Surely an aide to a Sheikh wouldn’t have his own private jet? He must have meant the Sheikh’s jet, but such details were insignificant now. Her much longed for escape from the ties of her father’s rule were on the horizon and excitement fizzed inside her so much that she couldn’t help but smile up at this strikingly handsome stranger who’d somehow turned her world upside down.
* * *
Zafir was on the verge of confessing that he was the Sheikh, that he’d allowed her to continue with her assumption that he was merely an aide sent to ascertain her ability, but, despite the brightness of her smile, the suspicion in her voice as she’d questioned his last words held him back. He couldn’t risk her turning down his offer, not when his most precious horse still lived the nightmare of the night his sister had died. Everything in his life had spiralled out of control after that night and it was beyond time to put it right.
The marriage he’d known for years he’d have to make was looming, but Tabinah’s death last year had put even more pressure on him to do his duty. And he would, once Majeed was healed. Only then could he put the nightmare of his sister’s unhappiness at the marriage he’d arranged for her aside and fulfil his duty to make his own arranged marriage.
‘My apology—the Sheikh’s private jet.’ His words were sharp but, lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t notice. ‘Do we have a deal, Miss Richards?’
He pushed down the guilt and shame of the night his sister had fled the palace. He would do anything to turn back the clock to the day he’d all but ordered Tabinah to do her duty and marry the man he’d selected for her. He hadn’t been a brother to his younger sister, hadn’t known how desperately unhappy she was. He’d just been the ruler of Kezoban, unaware she’d hated him, wanting only to shut him out of her life. The guilt that he’d made her so unhappy would always remain with him, even as he tried to piece his life together again, but soothing the tortured spirit of his stallion Majeed would help him finally put that night in the past.
He looked at Destiny, her soft brown eyes full of compassion, despite her bravado in standing up to him. Not only was he sure she possessed the gift to heal Majeed, he was certain she had the kindness in her heart the horse needed, unlike the others who had tried and failed.
‘Yes, we do. I can be ready to leave in two days.’
Zafir offered his hand, wanting to seal the deal and return to his homeland. The dark-haired woman who’d captured his attention in more ways than one took his hand and the warmth from hers spread through him. It was as if their spirits were joining, recognising one another on an as yet undiscovered level. She looked up at him and the same confusion which consumed him blazed in her eyes.
Did she feel the pull of attraction too? Did she feel the connection, as if they knew one another, knew that they were fated to cross paths?
He pushed the thought aside. He didn’t have the luxury of choosing his path through life, and this woman, whilst the kind of distraction he would have sought once, was not what he needed now—or ever again.
She intrigued him in a way no woman had ever done and, after the tragedy of the last twelve months, he liked the way she made him feel as her eyes met his. She was as spirited as a stallion and yet as nervous as a young filly foal. Today she’d been bold and fearless addressing him, but what would she be like once in Kezoban? Would she still have that feisty spark when she knew he was the Sheikh?
‘Very well. I will return and prepare for your arrival.’
‘And if I feel that I am unable to help the stallion?’ Her hesitation lingered in the air. ‘Can I leave?’
‘You will not be a prisoner, Miss Richards. You will be the Sheikh’s honoured guest and may leave whenever you wish.’
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_400d45ab-0459-5df3-85f0-fa7616a05490)
DESTINY LOOKED DOWN at the arid landscape below as the jet prepared for landing. The old town, seemingly carved from the desert, rose up around a rocky hill and next to a river; on the other side was a building of such splendour it could only be the Sheikh of Kezoban’s palace. Around it, newer and more prosperous-looking buildings nestled, as if for safety, and beyond that lay an expanse of desert. Everything intrigued her and she wished she’d had more time for researching the place before she’d left England.
As the sumptuous jet touched down her excitement grew. This was to be her home for the next two months and, if she was really honest with herself, she was somewhat naively looking forward to seeing the Sheikh’s aide again. It was only after he’d left the stables she’d realised she had been so intent on taking charge of her life she had no idea of his name. It had been his job, she’d reassured herself, to be controlling and demanding. Then there had been the moment he’d taken her hand, the memory of it still tugging at her unfulfilled romantic dreams.
There had been something about him, other than his undeniable good looks, and she’d been drawn to him with an attraction she’d never indulged in before. Despite the control he exuded, she’d briefly seen a different man as he’d spoken of the Sheikh’s stallion. Then the hard exterior had slipped back into place, shielding the real man from her scrutiny.
This thought still played out in her mind as she left the cool air-conditioned interior of the jet and stepped out into the desert of Kezoban. Instantly a wall of heat almost pressed her back into the jet but, as a black SUV pulled up alongside the steps of the jet, she descended, hoping to see at least one familiar face.
She was alarmed, not just at her disappointment but that the man who’d come to the stables wasn’t there. To hide it, she pulled the fine cream scarf she’d chosen to use as a headscarf a little tighter against her face and got into the SUV as the door was opened for her by a man in desert robes who seemed completely indifferent to her. If this was her welcome, what would the Sheikh be like when they finally met?
The drive from the airfield was short and she tried to glimpse the scenery as they passed from the dry desert land to the town. The streets were busy with people going about their daily lives and she longed to be among them—the anonymity, exploring the vibrant market. Soon the imposing walls of the palace loomed ahead of them and her stomach flipped over with nerves.
She was ushered from the SUV up cool marble steps and into the palace, where she was swept along by an entourage that made taking in anything more than a glimpse of the intricate and ornate design of the palace impossible. Her anxiety level rose as two large doors were swept open before them and all but two members of her escort left.
She just had time to glance around the high-ceilinged room, admire the blue and gold designs and the view into what must be the palace gardens before another set of doors opposite her opened.
The relief she felt at seeing the Sheikh’s aide almost made her sigh, but that relief quickly changed to confusion as those around him bowed their heads and stepped back, leaving them alone but for the two men standing like guards by the door she’d entered.
She looked at the handsome face, framed by the white headdress he wore which served only to heighten his handsome features. His midnight black eyes looked directly into hers and she couldn’t say anything as he walked towards her. His robes suited him far more than the jeans and shirt she’d first seen him in. With fine gold cloth over the robes, he looked positively regal.
‘Allow me to introduce myself.’ He spoke with a calm accented voice that had the velvety edge to it she remembered from that afternoon at the stables. ‘I am Sheikh Zafir Al Asmari of Kezoban.’
Destiny fought against confusion, her words almost faltering. ‘The Sheikh’s aide?’
‘No. The Sheikh.’
He had never told her his name, but he had definitely allowed her to believe he was the Sheikh’s aide. Had he been testing her?
‘It would have been nice to have known exactly who I was speaking to when you visited the stables.’
She should probably have spoken with more respect and, judging by his expression, he had expected her to. He took another step towards her and she tried to quell the tremor of attraction she felt for him, just as she had done that day at the stables. Even when she’d believed he was just the Sheikh’s aide she’d known he would never notice someone like her, but that hadn’t stopped the romantic in her dreaming of being swept away to his kingdom instead of being ordered there. Now she knew exactly who he was those romantic notions were about as likely as getting drenched from a storm cloud bursting above her head right now.
Everything about him suggested power and control; she just hadn’t wanted to admit it—not when it put him in the same league as her father. Now it was worse. He wasn’t just an aide to the Sheikh; he was the Sheikh. A leader. A man who should have power, and she despised controlling men. So why did her stomach flutter as his dark eyes locked with hers before his gaze slid down her body? She stood tall beneath his scrutiny, glad she’d opted to dress in keeping with the country’s culture.
‘It was your assumption that I visited on behalf of the Sheikh of Kezoban. I did not intend to mislead you and for that I apologise. Your stepmother made the assumption and I allowed it to continue.’ He moved closer but she remained where she was, determined not to be intimidated by him. ‘I trust we can move forward from the misunderstanding.’
His accented words were faultless English, his ability to use the language impressive, but it only added to his aura of command, the same command that had been absent as he’d talked of the Sheikh’s sister—his sister. She’d assumed he’d been thinking about the stallion as emotion and pain had filled his words in England. He’d seen through her stepmother, making him seem more human, more feeling, and that was something this man, who stood regally watching her, could never be.
‘I am here to work with your stallion, not pass judgement on you.’ She lifted her chin and tried to ignore the sizzle racing around her body as his gaze locked with hers once more.
As she’d accepted the contract to work for this man she’d thought it was like stepping out of the shadow of her father’s iron will and into the furnace of a much greater force. How right that had been. His ability to allow her to believe he was merely an aide to the Sheikh reinforced that, but working for the Sheikh was a gateway through which she must travel in order to start her new and independent life. It was the chance she’d been seeking and one she would take, no matter what.
* * *
When Destiny had been shown into his office Zafir had been overwhelmed to see her dressed modestly with respect for his culture. It should have stopped the hot thud of attraction which had surged through him from the moment he’d first seen her in England, but it didn’t; it only served to intensify it. That day at the stables something had ignited between them and, if he wasn’t mistaken, she was as reluctant to admit its presence as he was. Which only fuelled his ardour and intensified his curiosity to sample the forbidden.
‘You have had a long journey. Tomorrow you will meet Majeed and begin your work. Tonight, as my guest, you will dine with me.’ It was customary for him to dine with visitors but, from the look on her face, it was the last thing she’d expected.
She regarded him suspiciously and he fought the need to smile. This was the first time he’d encountered a woman’s reluctance to dine with him, but then he’d never invited a woman from another culture into his palace. Prior to inheriting the title of Sheikh of Kezoban he’d always kept his affairs confined to either London or New York.
‘Thank you, but I am sure you have far more important things to do than entertain me.’ Again the spark of fire leapt to life within him as her soft voice all but caressed his senses. He must have been living with the weight of duty for too long because he’d almost forgotten what such a sizzle of attraction could do to him. But never had it been so insistent.
‘I always entertain my guests, Miss Richards. You will not be an exception.’
‘Is it absolutely necessary?’ The question was accompanied by the lift of her delicate eyebrows, but the courage of it didn’t go unnoticed. Nobody would dare to address him like that, question his orders. He should be angry, should be making her error known, but he didn’t want to. She wasn’t speaking to him as Zafir the Sheikh but Zafir the man. Since he’d taken on the role of Sheikh of Kezoban after his father’s death, no man or woman had treated him as anything other than that.
‘It is.’ He moved a little closer to her so that he could inhale her light floral scent and wished he’d dismissed everyone from the room. Right now all he wanted was to kiss her, taste the sweetness of those full lips.
He stepped back. What was he thinking? He was a desert ruler, a man of power with a duty to uphold. Kissing this woman, however much he wanted to, was not something he could ever do, especially when she was here in his palace as his guest.
‘Then I look forward to it.’
‘As will I.’ It was the truth; he wanted to spend the evening in her company. ‘We have much to discuss about your intended work with Majeed.’
He walked back to his large and ornate desk, where he turned and faced her once more. Distance was most definitely needed between him and this beautiful Western woman who had stirred the emotions and wild desires of the man he used to be.
‘I appreciate it will be painful for you, but I will need to know all about what happened that night and how the stallion was before the accident.’
‘And you shall.’ But only what he absolutely had to say. He could never confess to anyone that he’d been guilty of neglecting his young sister so terribly. That the marriage he’d insisted she make had forced her to take such drastic steps. No, he could never allow anyone to know that. For the last year he’d been in the grip of that guilt and the way this woman was making him feel intensified it. He had no right to desire any woman when he was about to make an arranged marriage, not after insisting Tabinah did the same.
* * *
Destiny’s nerves fluttered as she followed her escort through the cool interior of the palace to join the man she now had to keep reminding herself was the Sheikh of Kezoban. A man who had concealed his true identity, but she couldn’t yet understand what he had to gain from that—apart from control.
She should have been able to relax in the luxury of her suite, with its views over the stunning palace gardens, but the thought of spending the evening with a man who intrigued and excited her as much as he irritated her with his need for control meant she was far from relaxed.
Darkness was falling and the palace was lit with lanterns at each of the ornate archways she passed through, giving everything a dreamlike quality. Then her escort stepped aside and gestured her through an arched doorway and along a vast walkway to another part of the palace gardens. She could see what resembled tents, draped almost completely in pale gold chiffon; lanterns glowed inside. It looked far too intimate for a formal dinner with the man who was effectively her boss for the next two months.
Then she saw him, his headdress discarded, giving him a more relaxed look, and her pulse leapt. Since when did the sight of a man do that to her?
‘Good evening. I trust you are rested from your journey.’ His deep sensual voice matched the mood created by his chosen venue for their meal and a brief skitter of panic raced over her before she dismissed it. As if this powerful Sheikh would be remotely interested in her. He probably had a harem of beautiful women.
‘With such a gorgeous suite, how could I not be?’ She couldn’t look directly at him as heat infused her cheeks.
When she did glance his way, it was to see his lips lifting upwards in a smile, one that sent a spark of amusement to his dark eyes. It was the first time she’d seen anything other than a severe or commanding expression on his face. It was also a smile that would melt hearts, hers included if the heady beat of her pulse was anything to go by.
‘I appreciate the effort you made today.’ She frowned at him, not sure what he was referring to. ‘You dressed to fit in with my culture and so this evening I wanted to show you a sample of life in the desert.’
‘Thank you.’ She forced the words out, totally taken aback by his thoughtfulness. Not at all what she would have expected from the man who had all but demanded she come to his country or the man who’d stood in his office just hours ago, an aura of power surrounding him.
‘I only regret I could not have shown you the real desert.’
‘This is lovely,’ she said as she walked into the tent. The warm night air played with the pale gold curtains and candles glowed within ornate lanterns, lending a romantic ambience to the setting.
Should she be worried by this gesture? She glanced anxiously at the man she knew very little about—she had placed herself at his mercy, thousands of miles from home. Who was she trying to fool? This was a desert king. A man whose life was so different from hers he would never think inappropriately of someone like her and the sooner she got that idea fixed in her head the better.
‘Does it not please you?’ A hint of a feral growl sounded in his voice and she realised her silence had cast doubt on her appreciation of all he’d done.
‘It’s perfect. Utterly beautiful.’
* * *
Zafir watched as Destiny, wearing loose-fitting white trousers and a long top, looked around. The pale pink scarf she wore on her head made her appear as delicate as a bloom in his prized gardens. She took in every detail and he found himself wishing they were in the middle of the desert, far away from anyone and, even more importantly, his duty. Not that family duty and honour were a trait she understood if the tension between her and her stepmother were anything to go by. She was here under duress and she’d clearly stated her terms, but that didn’t stop the sizzle of desire which flowed through him like the river his city was built around.
He wanted to tell her she was more beautiful than anything around them, but he hadn’t brought her here to seduce her. This was his palace, his home and he’d never entertained any woman here, even throughout his wild playboy days. He also needed to remind himself of the marriage he had to make. This was a woman he couldn’t afford to be distracted by for so many reasons.
‘I’m pleased you approve.’ He kept his voice as neutral as possible in an attempt to hide the effect she was having on him.
‘I’m also looking forward to seeing your stallion tomorrow.’ She glanced at him and he saw the apprehension on her face before she spoke again. ‘I do need to know more of the incident.’
‘By “incident” you mean the night my sister rode him out into the desert and met with her untimely death?’ This was the last thing he wanted to talk about. All the guilt from that night rushed back at him. He would have to share a certain amount of information with Destiny, but he wasn’t ready yet to reveal everything.
‘If I am to help the horse then I am afraid I need to know.’
The sympathy on her face only made his guilt worse. She must think he was so heartbroken after the loss of his sister that he couldn’t talk about it. Nothing could be further from the truth and nothing would make him admit the guilt he harboured.
‘First we eat,’ he said as his servants arrived with their meal. He gestured to the table, set with his colours, the same bright purple and gold that would adorn his private tent when he spent time in the desert, something he did several times a year.
She smiled at him and he could see his brusque tone had unsettled her, but it was necessary. Duty meant he could never let his emotions influence any decision he made. Duty also meant he could never have needs himself. It was always at the forefront of everything he did, just as it had been when he’d arranged Tabinah’s marriage, resisting her pleas for him to reconsider.
‘This is not what I expected to be doing this evening,’ she said as she settled herself on the cushions around the low table. The excitement on her face made her skin glow and her eyes sparkle. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Just as when he’d first met her, she appeared totally unaware of her beauty, almost as if she was intent on hiding or remaining out of the spotlight.
‘What did you expect? That I would banish you to your room and lock you up unless you were working with Majeed?’ Although it was meant in jest, he was shocked to see her cheeks flush with colour.
‘No, not that,’ she said softly, a hint of nerves in her voice. ‘I just didn’t expect such special treatment or the effort you’ve gone to.’
‘You are here as my guest, Destiny.’ It was the first time he’d used her name in conversation and it all but sizzled on his tongue and a spark of lust hurtled through him. ‘I like to show all my guests what my kingdom and its people can offer.’
He had to add that, had to try and refocus his attention away from the way she was making him feel as she sat opposite him, her partially visible dark hair gleaming in the light from the lanterns and looking so soft he wanted to touch it, to feel its silkiness and slide it through his fingers as his lips claimed hers.
What was he thinking? He should not be entertaining such thoughts. Not just because she was here to do a job, or even because she was a woman from a different culture. He could never think about any woman that way, not even the woman he was soon to select as his bride.
‘I am here to do a job.’ Her words were stronger, confidence filling them as they had done the first time he’d met her. ‘And to do that I need to know about certain events.’
He waited whilst his servants cleared the table and watched her face fill with delight and disbelief as an array of desserts were placed between them. As the servants quietly withdrew he wished Destiny was here as his guest, wished that he didn’t have to reveal anything about the night Tabinah died. Inexplicably, it mattered what this woman thought of him.
‘Tabinah was unhappy with the man I had chosen for her to marry. It was a marriage of duty on both sides, uniting two wealthy and powerful families. Unfortunately, Tabinah didn’t share my view on duty. She wanted nothing but her freedom.’
‘Her freedom?’ Destiny’s brows drew together as she tried to process the information, confusion clear on her face.
‘She claimed to be in love with another man, one totally unsuitable for the sister of the Sheikh of Kezoban.’ His words were dry and monotone. It was the first time he’d told anyone that his young sister had declared her love for a man other than the one she was engaged to. He knew it was talked of within the palace. He was no fool. He’d heard the whispered speculations. He’d just never admitted it to anyone before.
‘I’m sorry.’ She lowered her lashes, obviously embarrassed to look at him.
‘It is of no consequence. Many arranged marriages do not contain any love at all,’ he stated flatly as he wiped his fingers and signalled for the remains of their meal to be cleared.
‘It is sad.’ She looked directly at him and he had the distinct impression she was challenging him. How, he wasn’t yet sure. ‘Everybody needs love.’
‘Have you ever been in love, Destiny?’ He narrowed his eyes as anger simmered beneath his cool composure. So she believed in love and probably believed in fairy tales where everyone lived happily ever after. He, however, believed in real life.
‘I have love in my life, yes.’ The defensive tone of her voice goaded him to prod for more.
‘As do I. Love for my people, my country and my family honour, but that is not what I asked. Have you ever believed you were in love?’ Suddenly it mattered that she had the same foolish notions as Tabinah, that she was filling her head with romantic dreams of happiness.
* * *
‘No.’ Destiny fired the answer back at him, not liking the way his dark eyes were watching every move she made, every expression which crossed her face. She’d seen love in her mother’s diary, felt it as she read the pages, but the fact that her father had remarried so soon after her mother had died told her all she needed to know. Her mother had loved, but had never been loved. Something she would never allow to happen to her. She would only give her heart to a man who loved her completely.
‘And you have not married,’ he said. It wasn’t a question and silently she watched him. His expression was stern.
‘My work has kept me busy.’
