The Sheikh's Ransomed Bride (10 page)

Ì will make you my bride.’

Just as well she was sitting down.

The deep cadence of his voice echoed in her ears, seemed to magnify as her brain processed the simple, utterly incredible statement.

`You can’t be serious!’ Her eyes goggled. Belatedly she snatched her hand from his. She couldn’t think when he touched her. Or when he looked at her so intensely that she imagined a lick of flame in his gaze. Like now.

Ì would not joke about anything so serious.’

His stare held hers captive, and she recognized again the insidious ripple of arousal, of wanting deep inside. That scared her almost as much as the determination etched on Rafiq’s aristocratic features.

`But that’s impossible!’

He shook his head slightly, just enough to make his gold earring sway. `Not impossible at all. All it takes is you and me, together.’

Belle clamped her lips to cut off the sound of her indrawn breath.

He didn’t mean together like that. He was talking about a political gesture. A ceremony to assuage his people’s expectations.

`You know what I mean.’ She shifted back on the wide divan, edging away from him. `Marrying some woman just because you paid her ransom the idea is ridiculous!’

He transformed before her eyes. From seductive intrigue to offended hauteur in an instant. He didn’t perceptibly move but somehow he loomed closer, his powerful shoulders blocking the rest of the room from her vision. Or maybe it was the spark of outrage in his eyes, the anger in his flared nostrils and thinned lips, that made him suddenly so intimidating..

`There is nothing ridiculous in acting to preserve the safety of my people. As their sheikh, it is my duty to protect them.’

But not mine. She bit down on the words in case they slipped out.

Ì didn’t mean that.’ She clenched her hands, forcing herself to meet his gaze. He projected an intimidating aura of power, of authority, honed, no doubt, by centuries of al Akhtar arrogance. But strangely she found it easier to defy him now, when he was annoyed, than when his smoldering sensual promise made her weak at the knees.

Ì meant there must be another option. Some alternative to marriage.’ Just saying the word brought goose bumps to her skin.

Ìf you have a suggestion I am, as ever, willing to hear it.’ He tilted his eyebrows in enquiry.

Ì don’t know.’ She spread her hands helplessly. Ì don’t understand the situation well enough to suggest anything. But there must be some way out of this. Marrying a stranger in these circumstances is preposterous.’

Something shifted in his expression, something that made her want, more than anything, to escape. She didn’t like the look in his eyes.

`We’re hardly strangers, Belle.’ His voice dropped deep, to a level of purring intimacy that shook her to the core.

Time was suspended, even the pulse beating in her ears seemed to slow and her blood congeal as she watched him lean close. His body heat radiated against her, his clean male scent filled her nostrils.

It took a supreme effort of will not to shrink away. Or tuck herself in against him. When he looked at her like that she was too tempted to believe he felt the same bone deep attraction that had befuddled her since he’d burst into her life.

The problem was that he seemed the embodiment of every fantasy strong, protective, intelligent, honorable… devastating. Toa good to be true.

She snagged a desperate breath.

`But we’re not in love.’

Oh, hell. Had she really been foolish enough to blurt that out? Heat climbed her throat as she met his scrutiny.

`Love?’ he queried, one dark brow winging up in a face suddenly still and intent. `You are in love with someone?’

For a moment the question hung between them: provocative, dangerous.

`No, no.’ Damn! How had she got herself into this? It seemed that the harder she tried to find a way out of the quagmire the deeper she sank. `There’s no one. But I’d hoped…’

She stopped, appalled that she had to explain something so personal. Especially to Rafiq, who’d probably had potential brides paraded for his inspection since he was in his teens. A man who obviously viewed marriage as an arrangement of state, not a meeting of lovers.

Belle took a sustaining breath and lifted her chin. It’s possible that one day I’ll meet someone-‘

`So! You would deny me, deny my country, this marriage because of a hope, a mere wish for the future?’ His brows drew together in a ferocious scowl.

`You must know I’ll do whatever I can to help. But marriage! Your people surely can’t expect that. They must realize we’ve only known each other a few days.’

Ànd yet a few days can be enough to choose a bride.’ Something about his expression made her recall the story of his piratical ancestor. She shook her head. She couldn’t afford to be distracted now.

And you’ll find that, for all our strength and tenacity, we Q’aroumis have a strongly romantic streak. My people are curious at the idea of their sheikh giving up such a spectacular fortune for a woman. It appeals to their sense of the dramatic.’ He paused, watching her intently. `They believe I’d only relinquish such a precious treasure for the woman I love.’

Belle swallowed, then circled her dry lips with her tongue. What was it about this man that those simple words could rock her off balance?

`Then surely it’s a matter of correcting their assumption.’ `That’s one alternative, of course.’

`But not one you want to follow.’ That much was obvious.

`You know a little of Q’aroum, Belle. You understand our blend of old traditions and new ways. As hereditary head of state, it’s vital that I’m seen to embody the strength my people expect. The strength for which my family is renowned. During this crisis it’s essential their trust is not shaken.’

He sat back and spread his palms wide.

`They’re romantic enough to accept the idea of me acting out of love. But anything else like handing over a national treasure to preserve the life of a stranger could be construed as weakness.’ His hands clenched into fists on his knees. Ànd any perception of weakness would play right into Selim’s hands. It would give him the opportunity he needs to build some level of support.

`That is the alternative, Belle. That is what I’m fighting to avoid.’

It all made a horrible sort of sense. She’d been in the country almost a month and knew he was right the Royal Sheikh was revered. His prestige reflected directly on the nation. And then there was what he’d left unsaid. That he hadn’t needed to save her.

Most countries, including her own, had a policy of not negotiating with terrorists. Which meant no ransom would have been paid. If it had been left in the hands of diplomats and policy makers she’d bet that she and Duncan would still be on that island. Not a thought she wanted to pursue.

Rafiq had broken with internationally accepted practice. He’d gone out on a limb, paid a king’s ransom and put his own reputation at stake. To save her.

Belle’s stomach plunged in freefall.

How could she refuse him?

Rafiq waited only until Belle had informed her family, then ordered the betrothal be announced next day. By midday crowds of well-wishers thronged the palace gates.

The announcement had been straightforward, though couched in the elegant terms favored by the royal chamberlain. But the betrothal itself had been anything but simple, Rafiq decided ruefully as he dressed in his ceremonial robes.

What a woman he had chosen! He smiled at the memory of her last night, determination glittering in her eyes as she refused him. She’d protested and argued well into the early hours of the morning, finding so many reasons why their wedding was unnecessary.

If she didn’t have such a passion for marine archaeology she’d have made a fine career as a lawyer, doggedly putting her case. But of course the marriage was necessary, and so, eventually, she’d agreed.

Mother man might have lashed out at her, his pride wounded at her initial rejection. But Rafiq saw beyond the surface. Saw it was the circumstances she railed against, not him.

Who wouldn’t fight against a fate that ordained immediate marriage to a virtual stranger? Hadn’t he, at the age of thirty-one, deliberately avoided marriage to any of the women who’d been so carefully brought forward for his approval over the years?

Belle was distressed at having her freedom curtailed. At having the decision taken out of her hands by necessity. Women wanted to be wooed and courted, to be made love to by a passionate man who promised them romance.

But Belle couldn’t conceal the way she felt about him, he thought with satisfaction. Her body’s responses mirrored his own desire for her: urgent, instant, undeniable. And in all the protests she’d made last night she hadn’t once mentioned physical incompatibility.

His lips curved again into a slow smile as he thought of claiming her as his bride. Anticipation hummed through him, a palpable force. Just the thought of her did that to him.

It would be his duty to ensure Belle found pleasure in this union.

As much pleasure as he intended to take from it.

He adjusted his wide ceremonial sash, embroidered with the twin al Akhtar emblems of falcon and peacock, as he contemplated the woman who waited for him. There was a spring in his step when he strode from the room.

Belle stood statue still as the women clustered around her, chattering and adjusting her delicate silk robes with a tweak here and a stitch there. Surely it didn’t take so many to dress her? But she didn’t have the heart to spoil their pleasure.

It was clear that preparing the affianced bride of the Sheikh for her first public event was a great honor. And they were so genuinely happy for her, wishing her good fortune and pressing tiny personal gifts into her hands a vial of rose perfume, a carved trinket box inlaid with mother of pearl, a posy of flowers.

But, despite the luxurious trappings, being the Sheikh’s betrothed was anything but a fairytale.

She felt cold as ice. She’d barely slept, tossing and turning in her huge bed as she recalled last night’s argument with Rafiq. His insistence that their marriage was a necessity.

Nothing she’d said had swayed him from his purpose.

Her whole life had been turned upside down. She would be tied to a man she barely knew. Would become a citizen of a country she’d been in for just four weeks.

And, despite his assurances, she doubted she could continue her career, exploring and mapping ancient shipwrecks, when she was a royal princess.

A bubble of hysterical laughter rose in her throat. She could just imagine it her in a dive suit with a couple of ladies-in-waiting up on the expedition vessel getting seasick while she worked. Their idea of treasure would be something golden and glittering and ornamental. Hers was a newly discovered style of amphora, or perhaps some tiny detail of ship construction and navigation gleaned from an ancient wreck.

And she’d be so far from home. Rafiq had been quick to promise her trips to Australia, visits from her family on his private jet. Yet there was a huge difference between living overseas to pursue a career and accepting that her new home would be thousands of kilometers from her family.

She’d almost hoped her mother would be so upset about the news that she’d have an excuse to renege on the deal.

Certainly her mum had been stunned. Curious and cautious, and more than a little taken aback. But after she’d heard Belle out she’d been understanding and supportive. That was typical of her level-headed mother, and what she should have expected, since she’d learnt stoic self-sufficiency and composure at her mum’s knee.

Instead of getting hysterical, Maggie Winters had said she knew Belle was sensible enough to do what was best in the circumstances.

Sensible! Belle winced. She’d been anything but that these past few days. Continually fantasizing about Rafiq. Letting this passing infatuation cloud her judgment. She squeezed her eyes shut and let the women’s flow of mingled Arabic and English wash over her.

Maybe this obsession was the result of too many years of hard work and common sense. She’d spent so long doing the right thing, not taking time for light-hearted flirtation or frivolity. Since the day her dad had walked out on them and she’d decided it was time to help her mum shoulder the family responsibilities.

How sensible was it to imagine this marriage could ever be more than a public show? Her cheeks washed with fiery heat as she remembered her dream only a few hours ago. Rafiq had pulled her close and declared that he wanted her for himself. Because he could never let her go.

How pathetic could she get? To secretly desire so much more. To want something personal. Something permanent.

But the marriage would be a fake. As soon as the political circumstances changed Rafiq would find a way to end it. He wouldn’t burden himself by keeping a wife he didn’t want.

Pain lanced her chest. Why did the idea hurt so much?

She wasn’t herself that was why. The counselor at the hospital had spoken about the unsettled emotions she could expect after her traumatic experiences. Her feelings for Rafiq must be a legacy of that. He’d saved her. He was larger than life in every respect, handsome enough to take any woman’s breath away, strongly protective and honorable. She’d built up a fantasy romance around him.

It was pure infatuation she felt for Rafiq. Infatuation and gratitude.

She clung to the idea like a lifeline.

All she could do was play her part in public and hope these emotions wore off soon. Before she did something stupid, like let him see how she felt.

Something penetrated her circling thoughts. Silence. The bright chatter stopped abruptly. She snapped her eyes open as. a sudden tension filled the room.

Slowly she turned towards the door. But already she knew what she’d see. A sizzle of awareness told her Rafiq was there. It was as if she had a built in radar that alerted her when he was near.

Sure enough, as the women curtsied she saw him stride into the room, eating up the space between them till the massive suite seemed unbelievably small and intimate. Her stupid heart fluttered out of rhythm. Her breathing shallowed.