Exposed The Sheikh's Mistress

ADOLLOPof mashed banana landed in a slimy lump on the back of her hand and Sienna giggled as she wiped it away, looking up into the bemused black eyes of her husband as he surveyed the breakfast scene before him.

Hashim smiled. How his life had been transformed! Gone was the starchy formality and the slow glide of numerous servants who catered to his every whim. Instead, there sat his beautiful Sienna, with their gorgeous wriggling son on her lap.

‘What a merry dance he leads you,’ he observed ruefully.

‘Ah, but what wonderful co-ordination he has,’ cooed Sienna. ‘Only eight months old, and he’s practically feeding himself!’

‘Indeed,’ he murmured diplomatically, as another dollop of fruit was relayed across the linen tablecloth by the lively Prince Marzug.

Hashim had long given up trying to get Sienna to bring their son up in the conventional manner of royal princes, and she had resolutely refused to have child-care except when strictly necessary.

‘No one can love a baby like his mother,’ she had told him firmly. ‘Or his father,’ she had added impishly.

And in that he could not argue with her—though he enjoyed trying. For Marzug had stolen his heart the moment he had made his first lusty bawl. There was so much love in Hashim’s world now. His senses were raw and on fire with it. And Sienna had started it all. He looked at her.

Hard to believe as she sat in this scene of cosy domesticity, despite the grand dimensions of the room, that last night she had stunned the visiting French Ambassador at a reception given at the Palace in his honour. Hashim had watched with pride and love and lust as she had danced—slender and graceful as a flower swayed by the summer breeze. And alone afterwards, in the glorious privacy of their apartment, she had…she had…Hashim swallowed.

‘Are you all right, darling?’ Sienna questioned innocently, her words cutting in to a train of thought which was probably not advisable when he was due to inspect the Qudamah army in a little under an hour.

‘Yes, my beauty,’ he murmured, watching her pick up a cream sheet of paper. ‘What are you reading now?’

Absently, Sienna dropped a kiss onto Marzug’s curly black hair. ‘Oh, just a request—asking if I will be patron of the new children’s charity which is being set up in Nasim.’

‘Anothercharity?’ Hashim frowned. ‘But you do enough already.’

‘I know. But some of the work is extra-special, and…’ She put the letter down on the table, out of Marzug’s reach, and smiled at him. ‘I’m just flattered to be asked,’ she said simply.

And he understood. Perfectly.

Because it hadn’t been all plain sailing to get to where she was today. Sienna had had to work hard to get the people of Qudamah to accept her. Some of them hadn’t—certainly not straight away—but she had understood their doubts and fears about their beloved Sheikh marrying a woman from so far away, who knew little of their culture.

And there were some who had not finally thawed until she had produced the plump and bouncing olive-skinned infant Prince and fireworks had lit up the skies behind the Palace. Then they had finally taken her into their hearts.

The wedding itself had been a bit of a challenge, too—there had been a civil ceremony and then a religious one, after her conversion to Hashim’s faith. She’d had to memorise all her vows in Qudamahesh and she had spent the night before the marri

age saying them over and over again, until she was word perfect. Learning the ancient language was something she had immediately set about doing—and was even more of a challenge!

But she was young and bright and eager to learn. And she was in love. Just as she was loved. And that put everything in its proper perspective.

She had been a bag of nerves before her first meeting with Hashim’s mother—for the Princess was deeply revered by all who knew her. But their shared love for one man had been enough to unite them in a harmony which had soon grown into genuine regard.

She was both a wise and a perceptive woman. She had allayed some of Sienna’s fears—recounting the tale of one of Hashim’s ancestors, who had married the daughter of his fiercest enemy despite much opposition. ‘So, you see, there is nothing new under the sun, Sienna,’ she had said softly. ‘No matter where they live, nor what they do, people are the same; they never change. They fall in love and they fight for that love, and that is just how it should be.’

Sienna knew that what Hashim’s mother had told her was important. Not to compare, no—but to realise that life was very precious and very short. Once, she had wondered when the present became the past, but now she realised that it was happening all the time. Their wedding was already in the past, and their life would whizz by as everyone warned it did. They just had to make the most of it.

She pushed the bowl of banana away and Hashim judged it safe enough to reach out and ruffle his son’s hair. ‘Will we swim together later?’ she questioned eagerly. ‘In the Palace pool? Just the three of us?’

‘Yes, my love,’ Hashim murmured indulgently, wondering what the fabled Special Guard of the army might say if they could see their Commander-in-Chief being such putty in his wife’s hands! ‘And later we will have dinner alone.’ His eyes glinted. ‘Since our diaries are free. And at some point we must discuss your mother’s visit, and the gift of the stallion I intend to make to her.’

‘Oh, Hashim, she’s going to be over the moon.’

He took her hand, briefly rubbing the shiny gold wedding band with the pad of his thumb and then lifting her fingers to his lips, licking them provocatively. His eyes captured hers with sensual allure. ‘Well, then,’ he said lightly. ‘That makes two of us, doesn’t it?’

‘Three of us, actually.’ She smiled. ‘Well, four if you count Marzug.’

‘Always.’

Their eyes met and Sienna’s breath caught in her throat. She wanted to hold that moment in her heart for ever.