The Playboy Sheikh's Virgin Stable-Girl (6 page)

But even as the hours slipped away in a satisfying stream of tasks, Eleni was aware of a slow build up of dread and as she walked back to her rooms her heart was beating fast. As she ran the tip of her tongue over lips which had suddenly grown dry the thought she had spent most of the day trying to suppress came swimming to the forefront of her mind.

Tonight, she was to be brought to the sheikh, and she knew not why.

Amina had run a scented bath for her and afterwards, with Kaliq’s critical assessment of her clothes still ringing in her ears, Eleni selected a gown from the stack hanging in the cupboard. Opting for the most unobtrusive shade she could find—a sort of quiet, silvery-grey—she slipped into the silky robe and braided her hair with a matching ribbon. But when she opened the door to Amina’s gentle tap, it was disconcerting to see the servant bite back a small gasp of astonishment.

‘Something is wrong?’ questioned Eleni anxiously.

‘No. Not at all. You look…Oh, you look beautiful, Eleni,’ breathed Amina. ‘You will indeed please the sheikh with your appearance.’

‘But…but that’s not what I intended!’ Eleni blurted out. ‘I mean, obviously I want to please him with my care of his horses, but not for anything else.’

Amina looked at first startled and then faintly disapproving. ‘Do you not know that your own wishes are like breath on the wind?’ she queried softly. ‘Invisible to the eye and gone in an instant. The wishes of the Prince Kaliq are paramount in his palace—and he likes to look upon lovely things. Now come with me and come quickly—for one thing he does not like is to be kept waiting.’

What an all-powerful and controlling tyrant he sounded, thought Eleni, with a sinking heart. Why, he sounded no different from her own father—just royal and much richer! Her heart had begun to speed up and her palms were growing clammy as she followed Amina through a maze of cool, marble corridors which grew progressively grander with each passing step. Intricate woven metal lamps lit their way and cast flickering shadows, while the warm air was thick with blossom from the courtyard gardens.

At last Amina halted outside an imposing set of carved doors where two guards stood and she turned to Eleni with a soft expression on her young face. ‘I must leave you now,’ she whispered as one of the guards began to open the doors with a certain amount of ceremony. ‘Good luck.’

Eleni could see the glittering interior as the doors yawned open and at that moment she felt more like five years old than twenty-five. A terrible mixture of dread and fear mixed with hope and excitement began to tingle over her.

And drawing in a deep breath, Eleni held her head high as she was summoned to the sheikh.

CHAPTER FIVE

IN THE vast royal dining chamber Kaliq lay back on a heap of embroidered cushions, wearing robes which shimmered like spun gold beneath the guttering light of tall candles. On a low table before him stood a heavy goblet which he looked as if he were about to lift, when he looked up and saw her.

And in that split second Eleni forgot why she was there and why she found herself in such an extraordinary situation. Forgot everything—including her sanity—as her heart did a curious flip. Ebony eyes glittered as they stared at her and a mouth which must surely define sin itself quirked into a mocking kind of smile. For a moment she felt so faint, so weak, so utterly awed by his royal presence that she was grateful that protocol demanded she curtsey to him. But her cheeks were still flushed when she straightened up again.

Kaliq hadn’t moved; he hadn’t dared to—for the arrow of desire had made a stiff rod to lie aching at his groin. One of his ancestors might well have snapped his fingers and called her over to pleasure him with her mouth, but such behaviour was no longer approved of within royal circles—even in Calista. He sighed. It had been a dark day when his stepmother Anya had first brought some sort of equality to the women of this island!

‘Well, well, well,’ he murmured. ‘Let me look at you.’

‘Highness?’

‘Stand there.’

Kaliq’s mouth hardened as his gaze swept over her. In many ways it was not a promising appearance. She had tied back that magnificent mane of hair like a schoolgirl and her face remained scrubbed free of all artifice. Not only that, but she had chosen possibly the most neutral shade of all—when most women with colouring like hers would have opted for something vibrant. Something green and lush to echo the colour of her incredible eyes.

And yet it really was extraordinary how she had emerged like a Venus from the waves now that all the desert dust had been washed away from her grimy little face. The rough clothes favoured by her people had been replaced by a fine silk which accentuated the fine curves of her fit and youthful body. Why, his little lizard looked almost beautiful!

He shifted his position so that the ache at his groin grew slightly more bearable.

‘I believe that this is what they would call the “makeover”,’ he observed.

Eleni blinked. ‘I do not understand what you mean, Highness.’

‘No. I don’t suppose you do.’ His eyes glittered with mischief. ‘In the west, women sometimes take their clothes off for the television cameras—have you ever seen television, lizard?’

‘Once,’ she admitted. It had been a crackly old set hung on the wall of a café near to where she and her father had taken Nabat to race and she had not been very impressed with the raucous game-show which had had most of the other customers screaming with laughter.

‘And did you like it?’ he demanded.

‘Not particularly, Highness, no.’

‘Those in the west are addicted to it,’ Kaliq observed wryly. ‘And allow the cameras to take many liberties with their lives. These women in the makeover programmes allow other women to poke their naked flesh and tell them what to wear.’

Despite her disapproval that the sheikh should have been watching such a programme, Eleni couldn’t help herself. ‘Please,’ she protested. ‘You must not joke with me, Highness!’

‘But I do not joke.’ A mocking smile curved at his lips but the chauvinist within him silently applauded her entirely predictable reaction and the fact that she made no attempt to hide her rather prudish disapproval. How rare it was to find an unsophisticated woman—particularly for a man who moved within such rarefied social circles and globe-trotted as often as Kaliq did. He had only recently returned from Argentina—where he had been playing hard and fast on the polo field.

Afterwards, he had flown on to Rio where he had played even harder in the arms of a lover who was always exclusively available for him whenever he wanted her to be. And sometimes it was easier to take up with a woman you already knew than have to go through the mind-numbing motions of getting to know someone new.

The lady in question had possessed a dynamite body which she had delighted in flaunting. He found himself remembering her spectacular breasts, shown off in all their glory by the side of a swimming pool—and the pert thrust of her buttocks barely concealed by a shiny scarlet thong.

But although Kaliq was as appreciative of beauty and sexuality as the next man—wasn’t there something deliciously refreshing about this young woman’s genuine shock and outrage? His eyes flicked over her pink cheeks and pale green eyes. As well as something deliciously pleasing. His brows narrowed into a thoughtful look. What would she be like in his bed? he wondered idly. Would she be outraged at some of the things he would like to do to her—or would she embrace them with as much skill as she showed in the saddle?

He patted the cushions beside him. ‘Come. Sit. You will eat.’

‘Eat? You mean, here?’ Eleni swallowed. ‘With you?’

‘But of course.’ He glimmered her a smile. ‘We must discuss my plans for the horses and there is no reason why we should not do so in comfort.’

‘But—’

‘Please do not argue with me,’ he drawled, though his tone was emphatic. ‘The first time you express a doubt I might find it tolerable—but repeat it and it will quickly become tedious. Do you understand?’

Oh, she understood, all right. Spoilt, jaded sheikh used to getting his own way at all times! But Eleni kept her face impassive as she nodded. ‘Yes, Highness.’

His black eyes were glittering like jet as he pointed at the cushions and, although Eleni felt as if her limbs had been turned into marble, somehow she managed to walk over and sit down beside him. For what choice did she have when the sheikh had commanded it? Tell him that she’d rather be eating with the other servants in the kitchen as she had last night? That no morsel of food would ever be able to pass her lips in his daunting presence?

As if on cue, servant after servant began to noiselessly appear, carrying plates of exquisite food—some of which Eleni had never seen before, let alone tasted. Alongside the usual meat curry there was rare fish from the waters of the Kordela river, and jewel-bright fruits laid out on gleaming platters of pure gold. There were nuts and sweets, too—of such a variety that were usually only seen on feast days and holidays.

But more disturbing still than the sight of such a lavish feast was the prince’s proximity. Eleni could almost feel the warmth of his body beside her and was appalled by the way it made her heart race with a strange kind of excitement. She did not know what to do, or where to look. For if she cast her eyes downwards as was correct—then might he not once again remonstrate with her? And yet she could not bear to look directly into that forbiddingly aristocratic face—for fear that she would never be able to tear her gaze away from its dark beauty.

‘Eleni.’

He had even remembered her name!

She looked directly into the ebony eyes, her heart giving that terrible little wrench again. ‘Yes, Highness.’

‘Come, come—you must be hungry. Stop staring into space and eat something,’ he said softly. ‘For you have had a long day in the stables.’

She couldn’t possibly tell him that she had never felt less like eating in her life, could she? Might that not be seen as an insult to his hospitality? And anyway, not a morsel had yet passed his lips, though he was looking at her expectantly.

‘But a man must always eat first and take his fill before a woman,’ she protested as she tried and failed to imagine her father letting her have first choice of any food.

Kaliq frowned. And that, he realised—with a start—was the downside of inequality. He had never considered it before and for the first time in his life he saw that his late stepmother’s fight to end sexual discrimination in Calista might not have been a bad thing. ‘Eat,’ he said softly. ‘For your sheikh commands it.’

And didn’t everyone know that a sheikh’s wishes must be met? Self-consciously picking up a piece of fish, Eleni wrapped it in an edible leaf and began to eat and suddenly all her doubts and fears melted away in the wake of such a delicious explosion of tastes and flavours in her mouth. The sheikh had been right—she had ridden and worked since sunrise with nothing more than a handful of fruit in her belly. And this was like the food of the gods.

‘It’s good?’ he questioned, almost indulgently.

‘It’s…it’s wonderful.’

He watched while she ate, his eyes drawn to her with a rare fascination—thinking that everything she did was with a certain kind of grace.

But he was not employing her for her grace.

He was employing her for her prowess with horses—but now Kaliq could see for himself that Eleni had other very commendable attributes, too. And surely it would be a crime not to avail himself of them? As the silvery silk rippled over her firm, young arm, he felt the first soft beat of anticipation.

Forcing himself to wait until she had finished eating, he clapped his hands and the dishes were removed—and then he dismissed the last of the guards and other servants who always lingered in the darkened alcoves in case he wished for something on a whim.

‘Now,’ said Kaliq softly.

Eleni’s senses were alerted—but to what she knew not. Almost without meaning to, she shrank back slightly against the silken mound of cushions, stared up into the harsh yet beautiful face with its cruel curve of a nose and glittering black eyes.

‘You wish to discuss horse welfare?’ she questioned nervously.

Kaliq almost laughed—but he knew that laughter had no place in the bedchamber. Horse welfare was the very last thing on his mind right now! So was she being prim, or merely cowed by his royal presence? He leaned towards her, seeing her green eyes darken. ‘How old are you?’ he questioned softly.

‘Tw-twenty-five.’

Older than he had thought! ‘Ah, that is good,’ he purred as he lifted one of the braids of hair and rubbed his fingers experimentally over the thick, silken rope. ‘Yet heading towards thirty and you’ve never had a husband?’

‘Why, no, Highness.’

‘Never wanted one?’

Eleni clamped her lips together. These were very personal and rather hurtful questions for her ruler to be asking—though she suspected that he wasn’t really interested. She doubted whether he wanted to hear that the young men who had attempted to woo her had either been oafish, or had been chased away by a father reluctant to lose his unpaid servant. And why was he touching her hair like that? ‘My life has been my horses,’ she answered truthfully.

‘How very commendable,’ he murmured. ‘But there is so much more to life than horses.’

There was absolutely nowhere to look but into the gleam of his eyes, which were dazzling her with ebony fire, seeming to suck away all the strength in her body, leaving her feeling defenceless beneath its powerful searchlight.

‘Isn’t there, Eleni?’ he continued softly.

‘I…’ But Eleni had no time to put together a sentence—even if her brain hadn’t just turned to honeycomb—because the unbelievable was now happening. Prince Kaliq Al’Farisi was lowering his dark and beautiful head and those mocking lips were moving towards her lips.

He was going to kiss her!

Eleni had never been kissed before and she was not to know that it was being executed by a master of the art. All she did know were a series of conflicting sensations which were dragging her into a sweetly erotic world she hadn’t dreamed could exist. She could feel the silken seeking of his mouth and the instant clamouring of her senses in response. Could hear her heart beating so loud and so hard that she was afraid it might burst beneath her breast. And now a strange honeyed rush was beginning at the fork of her thighs, which had her almost choking with pleasure.