The Sheik and the Runaway Princess (4 page)

“And yet it exists.”

They approached an inner set of walls. She raised her gaze to study the thick stone, taking in the massive wooden arch that was actually a frame for the largest set of double doors she’d ever seen. They had to be at least fifty or sixty feet high.

She longed to jump down from the horse and study the doors.

“How old are they?” she asked, barely able to speak through her excitement. “When were they built? Where did the wood come from? Who were the craftsmen? Do they still work? Can you close them?”

“So many questions,” Kardal teased. “You haven’t seen the most magnificent part yet.”

She was about to ask what could be better than those incredible doors when they moved through the arch. On the other side of the inner wall was a second courtyard. Sabrina glanced around with great interest. The walls continued to circle the city, probably surrounding it completely. How big was the walled city and how long was the wall?
Two miles?
Ten?
Were there—

She raised her head and nearly fell off the horse. Kardal reined the animal to a halt and let Sabrina look her fill.
In front of them stood an awe-inspiring twelfth-century castle.

Sabrina tried to speak and could not. She wasn’t sure she was even breathing. The structure rose to the sky like an ancient cathedral, all towers and levels, complete with arrow slits and a drawbridge.

A castle.
Here.
In the middle of the desert.
She couldn’t believe it. Not really. And yet here it was. As she continued to study the design, she recognized that it had been built in sections, modernized, added to and modernized again. There were western and eastern influences, fourteenth-century windows and spires, along with eighteenth-century towers. People walked across the main bridge. She could see shapes moving inside.

A real live, to-scale working castle.

“How is this possible?” she asked, her voice breathy with shock. “How has it stayed a secret all these hundreds of years?”

“The color, the placement.”
Behind her Kardal shrugged.

Sabrina studied the sand-colored stones used to build the castle and noticed the low mountains rising up on either side of the city. It was possible, she supposed, that the city could not be seen from the air.
At least not with the naked eye or conventional photography.

“Other governments must know about the city,” she murmured, more to herself than to him. “They’ve seen it from satellite photos, infrared.”

“Of course,” Kardal murmured from behind her. “However, it is to everyone’s interest to keep our location a secret.”

They stopped just in front of the entrance to the castle. As Sabrina glanced around, she recognized descriptions from the diaries she’d read. She was absolutely right in the middle of the City of
Thieves
. She felt almost dizzy from excitement. There was so much to study here; so much to learn.

“I will dismount first,” Kardal said, easing himself off the horse.

Sabrina waited for him to help her down. It was only then that she noticed they’d gathered a crowd. She felt disheveled and dirty, but fortunately very few people were paying attention to her. They were busy watching Kardal and murmuring to themselves.

As he walked around the horse to help her, several men in traditional dress bowed slightly. Sabrina swallowed against a sudden lump in her throat. She had a bad feeling about this.

“Why are they watching you?” she asked. “Did you do something wrong?”

He grinned up at her, then put his hands on her waist and pulled her off the horse. “What a suspicious mind you
have
. They’re simply greeting me.
Welcoming me home.”

“No. That would mean waving as you rode by.” She glanced at the collecting crowd. “This is more than that.”

“I assure you, this is very common.”

He started to lead her up the stairs toward the entrance to the castle. The crowd parted as they walked and everyone bowed. Sabrina stopped suddenly.

“Who are you?” she asked, knowing she wasn’t going to like the answer.

“I have told you, I am Kardal.”

He waited, obviously expecting her to start walking again, but she stood her ground. She glanced around at the happy, almost reverent crowd, then back at him. “Uh-huh. Okay, Kardal, what am I missing?”

He tried to make his expression innocent and failed badly. If her hands hadn’t still been bound, she would have planted them on her hips.

“Look,” she said, both fearful and irritated. “You can call me a spoiled brat if you like, but I’m not stupid. Who are you?”

An old man stepped forward and smiled at her. He was stoop-shouldered and barely came to her chin.

“Don’t you know?” he asked in a quavering voice. “He is Kardal, the Prince of Thieves. He rules this place.”

Sabrina opened her mouth,
then
closed it. She’d heard of the man, of course. There had been a prince of the city for as long as the mysterious place had existed.

“You?” she asked in disbelief.

Kardal shrugged. “I suppose you had to find out sometime. Yes, I’m the prince here.” He motioned to the castle and the desert beyond. “I am ruler over all we survey. The wild desert is my kingdom…my word is law.”

At that, he jerked the cloak from her bound hands and grabbed her fingers in his. He pulled her up the stairs to the entrance to the castle,
then
turned to face the murmuring crowd.

“This is Sabrina,” he said, motioning to her. “I have found her in the desert and claimed her as my own. Touch her and you will have breathed your last that day.”

Sabrina groaned. Everyone was staring at her, talking about her. She could feel herself blushing.

“Great,” she muttered. “Death threats to those who would help me escape. Thanks a lot.”

“I say these words to protect you.”

“Like I believe that.
Besides, you’re treating me like a possession.”

“Have you forgotten that you’re my slave?”

“I would if you’d give me a chance.” She glared at him. “Next you’ll be putting a collar around my neck, the way my father does with his cats.”

“If you are very good I might just treat you as well as your father treats his cats.”

“I won’t hold my breath on that one, either.”

Kardal laughed as he led her into the castle. She followed, her mind whirling with a thousand different thoughts. Too much was happening at once. She was having trouble keeping up.

“If you’re the Prince of Thieves,” she said, “have you really spent your entire life stealing from other people?”

“I don’t steal. That practice went out of style some time ago. We produce our income in other ways now.”

She wanted to ask what, but before she could, they stepped into the castle. Everywhere she looked she saw beauty.
From the perfectly even stone walls to the intricate tapestries to the elegant mosaic tile floor.
There were candleholders of gold, frames decorated with gems, paintings and antique furniture.

The main room of the castle was huge, perhaps the size of a football field. It stretched up at least two stories and there were stained-glass windows and skylights to let in the light. She motioned to the candles and gas lamps.

“No electricity?” she asked as Kardal cut the bindings on her wrists.

“We generate some, but not in the living quarters. There we live as we have for centuries.”

Again he took her hand in his, tugging her along. She tried to take everything in, but it was impossible. Everywhere she looked, she saw something old, beautiful and very likely, stolen. There were paintings by old masters and impressionists. She recognized the style but not the subject. There were some she’d seen in books, rare photographs of paintings missing and long thought destroyed.

Kardal led her through a maze of corridors, up and down stairs, twisting and turning until she was completely lost. People passed them, stopping to smile and bow slightly. If she hadn’t been sure of his identity before, by the time they finally stopped in front of double wooden doors, she was convinced. The Prince of Thieves, she thought in amazement. Who knew such a man existed?

It could be worse, she told herself as he pushed open one of the doors. He could be the troll prince. With that thought, she stepped into the room.
And gasped.
When Kardal released her, she turned in a slow circle, taking in the spacious quarters.

Each item of furniture was huge. The four-poster bed could easily sleep six or seven. There was a fainting couch, covered in the same thick burgundy as the bedspread and a fabulous Oriental carpet on the stone floor. A brilliant mosaic of a peacock displaying for his peahens graced one humongous wall. There was a fireplace as large as her dorm room and books.
Hundreds, perhaps thousands of old, leather-bound books.

She crossed to them and reverently ran her fingers along their spines.

“Are they cataloged?” she asked, opening an old copy of Hamlet by Shakespeare, then gasping when she saw an inscription dated 1793. On the small table in front of her sat a hand-illustrated text of the Bible. She’d never seen such bounty.

Still holding the slim volume, she turned to face him. “Kardal, do you know what you have here? It’s priceless.
The knowledge and history.”

He dismissed her with a wave. “Someone will see to you. A bath will be brought, along with appropriate clothing.”

She could barely force her attention away from her book to concentrate on what he was saying. “Appropriate?”

Something dark sparked to life in his eyes. “As my slave, you will have certain…responsibilities. To fulfill them you will need to dress to please me.”

She blinked at him. “You can’t be serious.” She replaced the book and for the first time really looked at the room.
At the chaise and the very large bed.
Her throat tightened.

“Uh, Kardal, really.
This is a game, right?” She backed up until she pressed against the far wall. “I mean, I’m Princess Sabra. You have to think this through.”

He walked over to her, striding purposefully until he was directly in front of her. Close enough to touch.
Which he did by cupping her jaw.

“I am aware of your identity so there’s no need to play the innocent with me.”

The implication of his words hit her like a slap. She flinched. “Did it ever occur to you that I’m not playing?”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “Your lifestyle in
California
is well documented. I might not approve of what you’ve done, but I intend to take advantage of it…and you.”

His fingertips barely grazed her cheek, yet she felt his touch all the way down to the pit of her stomach. He stood too close—it was nearly impossible to breathe. Fear combined with a sense of disbelief. He couldn’t really be saying all this. He couldn’t mean to…to—

“We can’t have sex,” she blurted.

“I will not be a selfish lover,” he promised. “You will be well pleased.”

She didn’t want to be pleased, Sabrina thought frantically. She wanted to be believed. Tears burned but she blinked them away. What was the point? Kardal would never listen, no matter how she protested. He thought she was some party girl who slept with every man who asked. Telling him she was a virgin would only make him laugh.

“I doubt my pleasure will be enough payment for what you have in mind,” she said bitterly.

“You’re making that judgment before you’ve had your way with me.”

“The only thing I want is to go back to the palace.”

He dropped his hand to his side.
“Perhaps in time.
When I grow tired of you.
Until then—” He motioned to the room around them. “Enjoy your stay in my home. After all, you’ve finally found your heart’s desire. You now reside in the City of
Thieves
.”

He turned and left.

Trapped, she thought dully. She was well and truly trapped. She had no idea where she was, and didn’t know a soul to help her.

Sabrina slid down the wall until she sat crouched on the stone floor. He was right. She had found what she’d been looking for.
Which reminded her of that old saying.
The one about being careful about what one wished for. The wish might come true.

“I can’t believe it,” Sabrina muttered as she stared at her reflection in the gilded full-length mirror in her bedroom. “I look like an extra in a badly made sheik movie.”

“The prince was most insistent,” said Adiva, the soft-spoken servant sent to help Sabrina “prepare herself” for Kardal’s return.

“I’ll just bet he was,” Sabrina said,
then
sighed. There wasn’t anything to be done and she refused to get angry at the young woman who had been so kind.

She glanced at Adiva. The young woman, barely eighteen, stood with her eyes averted. She wore a conservative tunic over loose trousers and had pulled her thick, dark hair back in a braid. No doubt the teenager had all the retiring qualities that Kardal admired in women. He would think nothing of defiling Sabrina, while he would treat Adiva like a saint.

Sabrina returned her attention to her reflection and tried not to choke. She wore gauzy, hip-hugger trousers that were fitted at her ankles. Except for the scrap of lining low on her belly, she was practically naked from the waist down. The thin fabric concealed nothing. The top half of her outfit wasn’t any better. The same pale, gauzy fabric draped over her arms, while all that covered her breasts was a bra-style lining in gold. Adiva had caught her long, curly red hair up in a ponytail that sat high on her head. It was held in place with a gold headband.

Adiva stepped back and bowed slightly. “I will leave you to await our master,” she said quietly.

“I really wish you wouldn’t,” Sabrina told her, trying to ignore the nervous jumping in her stomach. All costumes aside, she wasn’t in the mood to be ravished. Not that the Prince of Thieves was going to ask her opinion on the matter.

Adiva either didn’t hear her plea, or didn’t believe it. Or maybe there was nothing the girl could do. She bowed again, then turned and left Sabrina alone.

The long room turned out to be perfect for pacing. Sabrina stalked from one end to the other, cursing Kardal, calling herself an idiot for setting out yesterday alone. If only the storm hadn’t come up. If only she hadn’t lost her horse and her camel. If only Kardal weren’t going to force her to have sex with him.

He was in for a surprise, she told herself, trying to keep her sense of humor and not panic. He was expecting Bathsheba, and instead he was about to get the virgin Sabrina. At least she would have the satisfaction of knowing that after he defiled her, he would be killed. However, that was small comfort. What would please her more would be a way to prevent the situation from occurring at all.

She reached the window and tried to find beauty in the view of the courtyard below and the marketplace in the distance. It was growing late and most people were hurrying home. She wished she could do the same. She turned to retrace her steps.

“Stand still so that I may look upon you.”

The words came out of nowhere and startled her into freezing in place. Kardal stood just inside the door. He had entered as quietly as a ghost. She’d heard neither the door open nor close. Darn the man for being so stealthy.

He’d cleaned up, she thought, looking at him and trying to still the rapid thundering of her heart. The man cleaned up pretty good. He still wore loose trousers and a linen shirt, but they were freshly pressed. His hair gleamed damply in the lantern light and his jaw was freshly shaved. Not wanting to know what he was thinking, she avoided glancing at his eyes, but she couldn’t help notice the elegant sweep of his nose or the strength inherent in his jawline.
Were
he not a kidnapper and a potential defiler of women, she might think him very handsome.

She had tried to make her study of him surreptitious, but he did not share her good manners. Instead he gazed at her as if he were considering the purchase of a mare. He stalked around her, looking at her from behind, then returning to stand in front of her again.

His attention made her shiver. She felt both his power and her near-nakedness. She liked neither. Fear took up residence low in her belly, making her chest tighten and her fingers curl toward her palms.

“You can’t do this,” she said, trying to make her voice strong, but sounding scared instead. “I’m a royal princess. The price of doing…that to me would be death. Besides, as the Prince of Thieves, you owe allegiance to the king of Bahania. To so insult his daughter would be an insult to him.”

Kardal folded his arms over his chest. “You’re forgetting that the king of Bahania doesn’t care about his daughter.”

She fought back a wince. “Actually I have trouble forgetting that, as much as I would like to.”

“Do you really think he would be angry?” he asked, stepping closer.

He reached for her right hand and took it in his. The contact startled her. She tried to pull away, but he would not release her.

“He might be annoyed,” Kardal conceded even as he ran a single finger along the length of her palm. Something unexpected skittered up her arm, as if a nerve had been jolted. “He might stomp about the castle, but I doubt he would kill me.”

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks about me,” she said, hating that those words were true. “But if you defile me, you defile a woman of his household. Regardless of his lack of concern, he would not let that go unpunished.”

Kardal shrugged. “Perhaps you are right. We’ll have to find out together.”

He moved with a swiftness that defied physics. One second he was lightly stroking her hand, the next he’d snapped something heavy around her wrist. She’d barely had time to gasp when he did the same to her left arm.

The air fled her lungs. She tried to scream in outrage, but had no breath. Slave bracelets. The man had claimed her with slave bracelets.

“You—” She searched her mind for an appropriate slur and was disgusted when none came to mind. “How dare you?”

Instead of being afraid—which was obviously too much to ask with this man—he grinned at her. “You appreciate that which is ancient and valuable. You should be honored.”

Honored? Her gaze dropped to the gold encircling the five inches of her arm just above the wrist. The slave bracelets were obviously old and handsomely made. A swirling pattern had been etched into the gold—the design both intricate and beautiful. She knew that somewhere was a tiny latch which when pressed, would cause the locking mechanism to release. She also knew that it could take her weeks to find it.

“How dare you?” she demanded again, glaring at Kardal. “You mark me.”

He shrugged. “You are my possession. What did you expect?”

The insult was nearly unbearable. “I am not a creature to wear a collar.”

“No, you’re a woman in slave bracelets.”

She stuck out her arms. “I demand you remove them.”

He turned away and walked over to a bowl of fruit left on a table near the door. He picked up a pear, sniffed it and then took a bite. “I’m sorry. Were you speaking to me?”

She jerked at the right bracelet, knowing it was useless. “I hate this. I hate being here. I refuse to be your slave. And there are times when I really hate being a woman. My father and my brothers ignore
me,
you think you can do anything to me. I will not be treated with the contempt you give a camel.”

At last he turned to face her. “On the contrary,” he told her, then took another bite of the pear and chewed slowly. “I have great respect for camels,” he said when he’d swallowed. “They provide a lifetime of service and ask very little in return.” He glanced at her, starting at her feet and ending at the top of her head. “I doubt the same may be said for you.”

It was too much. She screamed,
then
reached for the bowl of fruit. Her fingers closed around an orange and she threw it at him.

“Get out!” she shrieked. “Get out of here and never come back.”

He headed for the door. The man was laughing at her. Laughing! She wanted him killed.
Slowly.

“You see,” he said as he reached the door. “You are not going to be as well behaved as a camel. I’m disappointed.”

She threw a pear at him. It bounced off the door frame. “I’ll see you in hell.”

He paused. “I’ve lived a most exemplary life. So when we are both in the great afterward, I’ll try to put in a good word for you.”

She screamed and picked up the entire bowl. Still laughing, he stepped into the hall and closed the door, just as the bowl exploded against the wall.

Kardal was still chuckling as he entered the oldest part of the castle. He’d offered to modernize this section, but his mother protested that she preferred to keep things as they had been for hundreds of years.

He rounded a corner and saw an open arch, leading to what had been the women’s section. Nearly twenty-five years ago, his mother had opened the doors of the harem. Eventually she had sold them. As they had been nearly fourteen feet high, twelve feet wide and made of solid gold, they had fetched an impressive price. She’d promptly taken the money and used it to fund a clinic for women in the city. Well-trained doctors now monitored the women’s health, delivered their babies and took care of their young, all free of charge. Cala, his mother, had said the generations who had lived and died within the confines of the harem would have approved.

Kardal stepped through the open arch. What had been the main living area of the harem was now a large office. It was late enough in the day that her staff had left, but a light burned in his mother’s office.

He crossed the elegantly tiled floor and knocked on the half-open door.

Princess Cala glanced up and smiled. Tall, slender and doe-eyed, she had an ageless beauty that affected any man still breathing. A year away from turning fifty, she looked to be much closer to his age than her own. Her long dark hair was sleek and free from gray. During the day she wore it up in a sophisticated twist, but when work was finished, she often put it back in a braid. That combined with jeans and a cropped T-shirt allowed her to frequently pass for a woman half her age.

“The prodigal mother returns,” Kardal teased as he stepped around her desk and kissed her cheek. “How long will you be here this time?”

Cala turned off her computer,
then
motioned to the visitor’s chair across from her own. “I’m thinking of making this an indefinite stay. Will that cramp your style?”

Kardal thought of his recently monastic life. His workload had been such that he hadn’t been able to take time for female companionship. “I think I’ll survive. Tell me about your latest coup.”

She smiled with pleasure. “Six million children will be inoculated this year. Our goal had been four million, but we had an unexpected increase in donations.”

“I suspect it’s due to your persuasive nature.”

Cala ran an international charity dedicated to women and children throughout the world. When Kardal had gone away to boarding school, she had begun to busy herself with her charity work, traveling extensively, raising millions of dollars to help
those in need
.

She touched the collar of her dark red suit. “I’m not sure of the cause of the generosity, but I am grateful.” She paused to study him speculatively. “Is she really Princess Sabra?”

Kardal told himself he shouldn’t be surprised. News traveled quickly within the walls of the city and his mother always knew everything.

“She goes by Sabrina.”

Cala raised her eyebrows. “I hadn’t thought you could still surprise me, but I find I’m wrong. I’m sure you have a reasonable explanation for kidnapping the daughter of a trusted ally.”

He told her about finding Sabrina in the desert.

“She was looking for the city, but there was no way she was going to find it. She would have died if we hadn’t helped her.”

“I don’t dispute the fact that you should have offered assistance. What I question is you holding her captive. I heard that you brought her into the city on your horse, with her hands tied.”

He shifted uncomfortably.

“Why was she looking for the city?” Cala asked, leaning toward him. “I can’t imagine she’s interested in the treasures.”

“Actually she is. She said she has a couple of degrees.
Archeology and something about Bahanian artifacts or history.”

“You can’t remember what she studied?” Cala shook her head as if silently asking herself where she’d gone wrong with him. “It was too much trouble to pay attention. Yes, I can see how a first conversation with one’s betrothed could be tedious.”

Kardal hated when his mother spoke as if she was being reasonable when in fact she was verbally slapping him upside the head.

“She is all I feared,” he told her. “Not only doesn’t she know we’re betrothed, but she’s willful, difficult and very much a product of the west.”

His mother’s dark eyes didn’t show even a flash of sympathy. “You knew her reputation when you agreed to the match. Don’t forget it was your decision. I wasn’t even here when King Hassan approached you.”

“I couldn’t refuse him without creating an international incident.”

Cala didn’t bother answering that. He knew the truth as well as she. Tradition stated that he
marry
the oldest Bahanian daughter, but it wasn’t a matter of law. Kardal supposed he could have insisted on finding a wife of his own choosing—a love match. But he didn’t believe in love. Not the romantic kind. So what did it matter who he married? The purpose of the union was to produce heirs.
Nothing more.