The Sultan's Choice

But as soon as they were alone in a huge and stunning bedroom which seemed to open out directly onto the vast desert he turned to her with ferocity in his eyes.

‘Come here,’ he ordered in a rough voice, and Samia moved to him as if in a dream, half scared at the look on his face and half thrilled.

As soon as she was close enough he pulled her to him and his eyes roved over her face as if he’d never seen her before. His hand was busy undoing her hair so that it fell in thick waves down her back.

‘That’s better. I was afraid to speak on the way here in case I started kissing you and couldn’t stop. The last three days have been the longest days of my life.’ He tipped up her chin. ‘Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to watch you parading around in those stunning dresses and not pull you behind a column so that I could strip you bare and make love to you until you were screaming my name and I couldn’t remember who I was?’

Heat flooded Samia and confusion reigned, along with an awful burst of hope within her breast. ‘But … last night you didn’t …?’ She bit her lip for a second and blurted out, ‘I wanted you to make love to me. But I didn’t want to … ask.’

Sadiq smiled, and it looked slightly pained. ‘I don’t know how I walked away from you but I wanted to make sure you were fully recovered. Because I don’t intend to let you out of bed for this whole week. Starting now …’

And he took her face in his hands and kissed her until she was boneless. When he picked Samia up and carried her to the bed she was trembling all over with the anticipation and build-up of the last three days.

Later, with no idea how much time had passed, Samia woke but kept her eyes closed. She was naked, face-down in a soft bed, and she’d never felt so completely and utterly—

‘Good evening, habibti … how are you feeling?’

Samia smiled. She couldn’t keep it in. But she didn’t open her eyes for fear of making this dream end. Her voice sounded indecently husky. ‘I feel like I won’t be able to move ever again.’

A dark, sexy chuckle was accompanied by a hot kiss on her bare shoulder, and then the bed dipped and Sadiq got out. Reluctantly Samia opened her eyes and watched the impressive back view of her naked husband as he walked across the luxurious room to the en suite bathroom. Whatever she’d experienced that first night in Sadiq’s bed had been surpassed, and she knew with a little shiver of pleasure that it was only going to get better. Never in her wildest dreams or fantasies had she imagined that sex could be so … amazing.

Samia turned onto her back and looked out to see dusk falling over the dunes in the distance through the open doorway. They’d been in bed all day. And they were utterly alone, utterly remote. No one but them and the discreet staff and some of Sadiq’s security men in another lodging nearby. They were deep in the desert interior of Al-Omar, majestic in its isolation. The closest civilisation was the oasis town of Nazirat, some twenty miles away.

This ancient fortress castle had been built on a small neighbouring oasis some three hundred years previously, but Sadiq had made improvements along the way and now it was a luxurious hideaway. Alia had told Samia that apparently one of his ancestors had built it for a favoured wife. The romanticism struck a dangerous chord in Samia.

Through the open doors she could also see the still water of their private pool, the low divans around it piled high with opulent cushions and throws. Candles flickered softly in tall glass lanterns. The gentle breeze was warm. A feeling that she’d never experienced before stole over her. Samia frowned, trying to pinpoint what it was, and with a flash realised that it was contentment. And peace.

She wondered for a moment if she was in fact dreaming, because she’d never been given to dreamy introspection before, but the tenderness between her legs told her otherwise. Just then Sadiq emerged naked from the bathroom, walking towards the bed with singular intent and a wicked gleam in his eyes. If this was a dream Samia knew she didn’t want to wake up just yet.

Before she could draw breath he’d plucked her up off the bed into his arms and was striding back towards the bathroom. The steam of the huge shower enveloped them like a luxurious warm mist. Within minutes of stepping under the powerful spray Sadiq was soaping her body with a thoroughness that had a visible effect on him, and Samia was all but begging him to take her, right there.

She’d obviously spoken aloud, because he tipped her head back, cocooning her from the spray with his big body. ‘Believe me, I want to, habiba, but you’re still tender. And we need to use protection. But don’t worry … I won’t always be so considerate.’

It was only then that Samia realised that Sadiq had been careful and used protection. But before she could ask him about it Sadiq was turning her around and rinsing off her back. She felt him go still behind her.

Sounding completely shocked, he said, ‘You have a tattoo.’

She’d forgotten all about the tattoo across her lower back, just above her buttocks. Something rebellious rose up within her at his shocked tone and she turned around. ‘Yes, I have a tattoo. Is that so hard to believe?’

Sadiq looked at her and she found the indignant look on his face slightly funny. She could well imagine that when he’d been vetting her for her suitability he wouldn’t in a million years have dreamt she’d have a tattoo.

‘Where did you get it done?’

‘In New York with my friends, before we sailed across the Atlantic. We all got different ones which meant something personal to us.’

Sadiq switched off the shower with an abrupt move and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around Samia.

‘What is it?’ she asked, more hesitantly than she would have liked. ‘Are you really so shocked?’

Sadiq tried to school his features as he busied himself rubbing Samia dry, which of course was entirely too distracting in itself. It was ridiculous, but in some way he felt slightly betrayed … by a tattoo. Samia was looking at him expectantly, her skin soft and glowing and more seductive than she could ever know.

He forced himself to be rational and quirked a wry smile. ‘A tattoo is not something I associated with the mouse who came into my study that first day in London.’

Samia flushed pinker and looked away, and perversely that made Sadiq feel comforted. He caught her chin and brought her head up so he could inspect those blue depths. Curbing his insatiable desire to rip the towel away and do what she’d just been begging him to do in the shower, he asked gruffly, ‘What does it mean?’

‘It’s the Chinese symbol for strength.’

Sadiq saw something intensely vulnerable flash in those aqaumarine depths and had to drive down a spark of emotion. It made his voice more curt than he would have intended. ‘Let’s have dinner and you can tell me all about why you’d want a symbol for strength tattooed onto your skin.’