Rana looked over the girl’s lithe frame with envy. Rana had never been a beauty. She was the youngest daughter of a neighboring sheik and had grown up coddled by her father. Though Rana’s sisters had been beauties, Rana was not, although she always had been sweet and kind. She was a devout Muslim, a loving mother, and caring wife. When Majeed had wanted to marry all those years ago, Rana thought he would certainly pick one of her sisters. But Majeed was not interested in beauty and found it distracting. Instead, he had settled for Rana and never regretted his choice.
Rana had bathed the girl with the help of the women and all had admired the girl’s face and figure. Her golden hair had been cleaned and pinned back, and her oval face had been washed and creamed with almond oil. Rana could not help but think the foreign woman was more beautiful than all of her sisters and any woman she had ever seen. Perhaps it was the uniqueness of her creamy skin and hair, but she could not help but wonder if Majeed would desire her.
Majeed came into the room quietly. The women had gone to tend to the evening meal and Majeed wanted to see the young beauty. She lay asleep on the pillows and blankets inside his wife’s tent. She was dressed modestly in a blue abaya, but Majeed could see her nipples taut and stiff through the material. He knelt beside her as he had done in the desert. His fingers itched to touch her and he couldn’t stop himself.
Majeed was an attractive man in his thirties, tall and muscular, with brown hair and brown eyes. He wore a beard, which aged him, but he was an attractive man never given to impulses until now.
His fingers encircled her nipples and Katharine moaned in her sleep. He wanted to touch her more and taste her, but his honor held him back.
Katharine was startled awake and batted his hand away.
“Don’t touch me,” she said.
Majeed was dazzled when she opened her eyes. Her eyes were blue, like the Arabian Sea.
Katharine’s head spinned as she tried to grasp where she was while Majeed stepped away from her. She was frightened, but as her head continued to spin, she murmured, “Help me,” and sank into the pillows and oblivion.
Majeed stared at the sleeping beauty as she seemed to faint, but was distracted by a noise and turned toward it.
“Rana!” he said. Rana’s eyes were accusing; she wore a pained expression on her face.
“My lord,” was all she said, and she exited the tent quickly.
Majeed cursed the beauty. He had been right. Women, especially beautiful ones, were only trouble. He looked down at her. A woman of her unusual coloring was obviously not a native Arab. She must therefore be a slave, concubine or a foreign visitor. In any case, he owed it to his wife and his own sanity to find her rightful place and be rid of her.
He sighed. He would take Saber and a few of his men and visit the neighboring sheiks to see if anyone knew anything about the pale beauty.
***
Mohammed sank his head into his hands. It had been a week with no sign of her. The second riders had come back exhausted and with no word. It had been an excruciating wait and one that held no satisfaction. He decided that either Yasmeen had secured a passage for her and sent her away or Katharine had been sold into slavery, which was a frightening thought. Even for someone with Katharine’s spirit, the world of slavery was evil. In the harem, she had been relatively safe from everyone except himself and the wrath of Yasmeen. In the outside world, though, the ship’s captain would have her, the sailors would have a go at her, and by the end of the voyage, she would be sold to a dirty brothel or worse. Mohammed couldn’t stand it. His thoughts were dark.
He needed to get away. He had many brothers but his favorite was the farthest away, on the edge of the great desert. He would travel there as quickly as possible.
***
Katharine was seated inside the tent as she picked at her food. She knew Majeed’s eyes were on her as they always were. Rana was visiting her family in a nearby tent and, as Majeed had dismissed the servants, they remained alone.
Katharine stole glances at Majeed while he was eating. He was a tall man, golden-skinned, with brown hair and eyes. He reminded Katharine of Mohammed, except Majeed was slimmer in build and his beard made him look much older. Majeed was attractive, but he did not have Mohammed’s dark looks and seductive gazes. Katharine shivered at the memories of his possession of her.
“Are you cold, beauty?” Majeed asked quietly from across the many pillows as they both remained seated.
“No, I’m well. I wish you would call me by name. Katharine,” she said, not wanting to seem contrary.
She knew this sheik had only one wife and no harem. He was a quiet, studious man who relished his power and yielded it extremely wisely. He was greatly respected, but she worried he would take notice of her and want her for himself. As a respected sheik, no one would deny him.
“Where did you learn to speak Arabic?” Majeed asked her.
“From living in a palace and serving another sheik, which is where I want to be returned,” she answered. Katharine had tried to talk to him about being returned to Mohammed before, but he would never let her raise the subject.
“You don’t like it here, beauty?” he asked. Majeed’s voice had lowered and he moved toward her.
“I would like,” she began.
“Yes?” he said. Majeed lowered himself to sit beside her. She gazed up at him with eyes that were blue and wide. His palm touched her face and it was like silk. He hardened at the thought of taking her right there in his tent. The thought of her creamy thighs spread wide as she accepted his cock spurred him on.
“Please,” she said. Katharine tried to move away from the close proximity, but he caught her in his arms.
“You were this man’s wife?” Majeed touched her golden hair, marveled at the color.