Captured by the Sheikh

Yet he still didn’t trust it, because he knew all too well how the people you loved, the people you thought loved you back, could turn on you. Utterly.

Several men came up as he swung off the horse, offering their greetings and taking the horses away before leading Khalil to the Sheikh’s tent. He glanced back at Elena who was looking pale but composed as several women hustled her off to another tent.

Deciding she could handle herself for the moment, Khalil went to greet the tribe’s Sheikh and explain why he was here. It would be better, he knew, to leave Elena alone for a while.

For ever.

* * *

Several clucking women surrounded Elena and she was carried along with them to a tent, bemused by their interest, and more than a little hurt by the stony look she’d seen on Khalil’s face as he’d turned away.

So he regretted their kiss last night. Clearly. And she should regret it too; of course she should. Kissing Khalil was a very bad idea. Caring about him was even worse.

The trouble was, she couldn’t regret it. She ached with longing for another kiss—and more. For him.

She’d come to this desert tribe because she’d wanted to, because she wanted to see the people who cared about Khalil.

As she cared about him.

More, it seemed, than he wanted her to.

Once in the tent, the women fluttered around her like colourful, chattering birds, touching her hair, her cheek, the clothes she wore that were now grimed with dust and dirt. Elena didn’t understand anything they said, and it appeared none of them spoke either English or Greek, the two languages in which she was fluent. They all seemed wonderfully friendly, though, and she let herself be carried along by the wave of their enthusiasm as they fetched her fresh clothing and led her down to the oasis where the women of the village bathed.

After a moment’s hesitation at the water’s edge, she took off her clothes as the other women were doing and immersed herself in the warm, silky water. After a night in the desert and hours of hard riding it felt wonderful to wash the dirt from her body, scrub the sand from her scalp. She enjoyed the camaraderie of the women too, watching as they chattered, laughed and splashed, utterly at ease with one another. She was gratified by their willingness to include her even though she was a stranger who didn’t even speak their language.

After she had bathed she slipped on the unfamiliar garments the women gave her: a cotton chemise and then a loose, woven dress with wide sleeves embroidered with red and yellow. She left her hair down to dry in the sun and accompanied the women back up to the camp where a meal had been laid out.

She looked for Khalil, and tried to ignore the flicker of disappointment she felt when she could not find him.

In the camp the women ushered her into their circle and plied her with a delicious stew of lentils, flat bread and cardamom-flavoured coffee similar to what she had drunk with Khalil. As they ate and chatted, they mimed questions which Elena did her best to answer in a similar fashion.

Within an hour or two she felt herself start to fade, the exhaustion from the night spent outside and the endless hours on horseback making her eyelids begin to droop. The women noticed and, laughing, brought her to a makeshift bed piled high with woven blankets. Grateful for their concern, Elena lay down in it, and her last thought before sleep claimed her was of Khalil.

She woke the next morning to bright sunlight filtering through the flaps of the tent that was now empty save for herself. Today, she acknowledged with a heaviness she knew she shouldn’t feel, was the last day of her imprisonment. Aziz’s six weeks were up. He would have married someone else or forfeited his title. Either way, she wasn’t needed, and Khalil could let her go.

A thought that mere days ago would have brought relief and even joy, not this sick plunging in her stomach. She didn’t want to leave Khalil, and she didn’t want to face her country and Council alone. How would she explain what had happened? She supposed she’d go with what Khalil had originally suggested: ‘a necessary detainment’. Perhaps she would tell the Council she’d changed her mind about the marriage when she realised Aziz’s claim to the throne wasn’t legitimate.

She spared a second’s thought then for the man she’d intended to marry, a moment’s regret. He’d been kind to her. Looking back, she saw how his easy charm had hidden a deeper part of himself, something dark, perhaps painful. What had his experience of Khalil’s banishment, his sudden arrival at the palace, felt like? How had it affected him? She supposed she would never know.

Just as she would never truly know Khalil. She’d had glimpses of a man who was both tender and strong, who had the ruthless determination to kidnap a monarch but the gentleness to cradle her and wipe away her tears. A man she knew she now cared about, whom she might never see again after today.

Sighing, Elena swung her legs onto the floor and combed her hands through her tangled hair, wondering where everyone was and just what this day would bring.

When she was as presentable as she could make herself, she stepped outside the tent, blinking in the bright sunlight. People bustled around the camp, busy with various tasks and chores; she could not see Khalil.

A woman from the night before approached her with a smile and gestured for her to come forward. Elena followed her, stopping suddenly as she caught sight of Khalil talking with a group of men. The woman followed Elena’s transfixed gaze and giggled, saying something Elena didn’t understand, but she had an uncomfortable feeling she’d got the gist of.

This was confirmed a few moments later when Khalil broke apart from the men to join her by a fire where she’d been eating some bread and tahini for breakfast.

‘Good morning.’

She nodded back her own greeting, her mouth full of bread and her cheeks starting to heat. It was ridiculous, to have this kind of reaction to him, but it was also undeniable. All she could picture was the look of both tenderness and hunger on his face right before he’d kissed her. All she could remember was how wonderful it had felt—and how much more she had wanted.

Still did.

‘You slept well?’

She swallowed her mouthful of bread and nodded once more. ‘Yes, I was exhausted.’

‘Understandable.’

His expression was unreadable, his tawny eyes veiled, and Elena had a terrible feeling he was going to leave it at that. Something that had become almost easy between them now felt stilted and awkward. Which was, she acknowledged, perhaps as it should be, and yet...

She felt the loss.

‘What happens now?’ she asked, more just to keep the conversation going than any real desire to know, although she should want to know, considering this was her future. Her life. She forced herself to say the words that had been throbbing through her since she’d woken that morning. ‘The six weeks are up.’

‘I know.’

She gazed up at him, tried to read his expression, but he looked utterly impassive. ‘Are you going to let me go?’

‘I promised I would.’

She nodded jerkily, feeling bereft and unable to keep herself from it.

‘We should stay here for another night, if you are amenable. There is a wedding in the tribe and a big celebration is planned this evening.’ He hesitated, and it almost looked as if he were blushing. ‘We are the guests of honour.’

‘We are? I could understand why you might be, but—’

‘The members of the tribe are under the impression that we are newly married,’ he interjected in a low voice. ‘I have not corrected it.’

‘What?’ Elena bolted upright, gaping at him before she could think to close her mouth. So that was why the woman had looked at Khalil and giggled. ‘But why are they under that impression?’ she asked, her voice coming out in something close to a squeak. ‘And why haven’t you corrected it?’

‘They are under it because it is the only reason they know of why a man and woman would be travelling alone together. If the storm hadn’t arisen, we would have entered the camp with my men—’

‘But couldn’t you have explained about the storm?’

‘That would not have been a good enough reason. The desert tribes are traditional. I didn’t explain because to do so would have brought disapproval and shame upon both of us.’ His mouth and eyes both hardened. ‘Something I should have considered more carefully. I acted foolishly in asking you to accompany me.’

Elena blinked, trying to hide the hurt his recrimination made her feel. He regretted her company, along with that kiss. She drew a breath, forced herself to think about the practicalities. ‘And what happens when they discover we’re not married?’

‘Ideally, they won’t. At least, not while we’re here.’

‘Eventually, though...’

‘Eventually, yes. But by that time I will be installed as Sheikh and I will be able to make any apologies or explanations that are necessary. To do so right now would invite even more instability.’ He sighed, shifting his weight restlessly. ‘I admit, I don’t like lying, not even by silence—but this is a critical time, not just for myself, but for Kadar. The less unrest there is, the better.’

‘So I am meant to pretend to be your wife?’ Elena asked, her voice a hushed and disbelieving whisper.

Khalil’s gaze seemed to burn into hers. ‘Only for one day and night. Will that be so hard, Elena?’