The Sheikh's Ransomed Bride

`You misunderstand,’ he said abruptly. His neck stiffened at the implication that he sought recompense for doing his duty and he clamped his jaw tight shut. He took a slow, calming breath. `The ransom wasn’t money. It was the Peacock’s Eye.’

Her brows knit together. I’ve heard of that,’ she said slowly. Ìt’s jewelry, isn’t it?’

He nodded. The Eye was jewelry just as the Taj Mahal was a tombstone.

Belle Winters obviously wasn’t like most visitors, who believed a trip to Q’aroum wasn’t complete without a visit to see the royal gems. The Eye was the centerpiece of the collection: a dazzling necklace, ancient and heavy with the weight of solid gold and gems, designed to mimic the pattern on a peacock’s tail feather. Its value was in its magnificent wealth: the huge emeralds alone were beyond price. But much more important was its historic and cultural significance to Q’aroum.

Ìt’s jewelry,’ Rafiq agreed wryly. But, more than that, it’s an heirloom that holds unique significance in our heritage. For generations it’s been the traditional gift of the royal Sheikh to his bride.’

Her jaw dropped.

Àccording to the custom of my people,’ he continued, `since I relinquished it in return for you, I’ve paid it as a bride price. Which means that, as far as Q’aroum is concerned, Belle, you are my affianced bride.’

`That’s right.’ She nodded so emphatically that her hair swirled around her shoulders. Ì‘ve got lots to organize. There’ll be a replacement for Duncan arriving some time, and then the rest of the group. And I want to visit the wreck again as soon as possible.’

Ìt will not be as simple as that.’ He lifted his own cup and swallowed some of the strong coffee.

She put her cup down and squared her shoulders, as if bracing for bad news. `What’s wrong? Is it the wreck? Has it been destroyed by the cyclone?’

He shook his head. In all the mopping up operations after the devastation wreaked on the outer islands, checking an ancient wreck had not been a priority. `No one has been to investigate. Our problem has nothing to do with your marine survey. It has to do with the ransom that was paid to save you.’

Her brows pleated in confusion. `But you rescued us. Why would a ransom be paid?’

Clearly she hadn’t caught up with the news from her hospital bed.

Which meant the staff there had been remarkably discreet.

`There was reason to suppose you would come to harm if the ransom wasn’t paid. Serious harm.’ He frowned, remembering his advisors arguing over what action to take in response to the kidnap.

As if there could have been any doubt once he’d realized the situation’s gravity. `Regrettably, the deadline for payment of the ransom came before we could get news to the mainland that you’d been found.’

`So,’ she said slowly, `the ransom was paid anyway?’ `That’s right.’

`How much do we owe you?’

Rafiq stared, not believing his ears.

`How much was the ransom?’ she asked again, just as if she meant to find the money somehow, and pay him back whatever the cost of her rescue.

CHAPTER FIVE

BRIDE. Affianced bride. Belle gaped as the words tumbled through her brain.

She’d recognized the glint of amusement in his eyes as he’d spoken of his ancestors and their rapacious habits. But he wasn’t laughing now. The long grooves that bracketed his mouth were etched deep, the sharp angles of his cheekbones and his jaw were prominent, as if tension tightened his muscles.

Her stomach dipped on a rollercoaster of reaction.

Bride! To this man? It was impossible. Ludicrous.

And yet still he didn’t smile.

An icy finger of foreboding slid down her spine, making her shiver.

Bride to this man. Out of nowhere flashed an image of her and Rafiq together. Close. Intimate. Heat flared in her cheeks, and surreptitiously she wiped her damp hands over her trousers.

Rafiq threatened her self possession, but not because he was a royal prince, head of state and a billionaire. It was Rafiq the man of elemental power, unstudied sex appeal and restrained passion who unsettled her. Scared her.

He’d already stalked her dreams and taken up residence in her subconscious. Now he was talking about her life. `They think we’re engaged?’ Her voice cracked on the word.

Ìt is the custom.’ He nodded, sounding appallingly calm. `Though of course usually the Eye stays in the possession of the bride, and is ultimately passed to the next generation. It has always been so.’

`When you say always…’