The Sultan's Choice

One night she’d gone to a small dinner party thrown by her work colleagues in a restaurant in Mayfair, dressed in one of her new dresses. Sadiq knew because he’d asked the bodyguard to send him pictures. It had been a perfectly modest dress—black V-neck with sleeves, and to the knee—but she’d worn her hair down and the curves she’d been hiding for years had been on display. For the first time in his life Sadiq had felt jealous. He’d precipitated that change and resented that other people were seeing it.

Suddenly the figure down below spun away from the wall and hurried back inside, and Sadiq realised his hands were gripping the iron railing. He consciously relaxed and looked out over the city again. His wife-to-be was proving to be a monumental distraction—something that wasn’t meant to happen. The sooner he got control of himself the better. This marriage signified the next phase in development for his country. Nothing more and nothing less.

All he had to do was stop his mind straying with irritating predictability to his fiancée …

The next day Sadiq was looking out of his main study window, and he cursed colourfully enough to have his chief aide go red in the face. But he was unaware of that as he took in the scene down below in the main courtyard of his extensive stables. ‘What is she doing?’ he muttered out loud.

And then, before Kamil, his aide, could intervene, Sadiq spun around and clipped out, ‘This meeting is over. Get my horse saddled immediately.’ And he left the room, ignoring the open-mouthed older man, to change into something more suitable.

Belatedly Kamil rushed after him. ‘But, sire, you have to meet with the committee in two hours!’

‘I’ll be back by then,’ Sadiq said grimly, and disappeared.

Samia felt mildly guilty that she’d convinced the young groom to let her take a horse out without checking with Sadiq first. But the last thing she’d wanted to do was disturb him with such a small thing. She’d decided stoutly that as he didn’t want to spend time with her, that suited her fine too. And she’d been feeling increasingly claustrophobic. Even though the Hussein castle was as stunning as it was vast, with hundreds of secluded gardens and tantalising labyrinthine corridors which would take weeks to explore, its walls seemed to be closing in on Samia. Everywhere she went someone popped out to see if she needed anything.

While she appreciated their dedication, and knew they were only doing their jobs, she craved some freedom and some space, knowing very well that once she was married her sense of claustrophobia would only increase. Her every move would be accounted for and long days of back-to-back appointments would become the norm.

When she’d seen the stables a few days ago a rare excitement had kicked in her belly. She’d used to love riding when she’d been smaller, until her stepmother had seen that joy and with typical malice had announced that it was too unladylike and forbidden Samia from riding again.

Unbeknownst to her stepmother, Kaden had taken Samia out on covert riding excursions, so her skills were not too rusty. The powerful stallion moved restlessly beneath her, and Samia felt the power move through those huge muscles. A sense of burgeoning exhilaration flowed through her blood. From here the gates opened straight out onto castle-owned desert lands, which led in turn to the desert proper, which then stretched for many miles to the north and away from B’harani. All the way up to Burquat, in fact. When Samia realised that she felt a pang of homesickness. Spurring the horse on, she left the castle behind and they surged forward.

Sadiq saw them in the distance, where clouds of sand were being kicked up by the powerful horse’s hooves. Samia looked tiny on the back of the huge black animal, her hair streaming out behind her. She wasn’t even wearing a hat, and Sadiq’s blood thundered in his veins as he started to close the distance between them. He could recognise that she was an excellent horsewoman but even that didn’t douse his anger.

Samia only sensed another’s presence when she heard a thundering sound behind her. She looked around and saw an almost mythically huge stallion bearing down on her and the livid features of Sadiq. The realisation that it was him behind her, chasing her, made her turn back and speed up. She knew she was reacting to something deep and primal. A fear of this man and his effect on her, how he made her feel.

But before she knew it Sadiq had pulled alongside and had reached for her reins to bring both horses to a stop. Within the space of what felt like seconds the horses had stopped and Sadiq had jumped down and plucked Samia out from her saddle. Her legs nearly gave way, they were shaking so much, and it was only his big hands on her waist that kept her standing. He was glaring down at her and looked wild and gorgeous. A long robe was moulded to his body by the desert breeze and he’d ripped away the material of the turban that had shielded his mouth from the sand. Blue eyes like chips of diamond ice stood out in stark relief. He could have been a desert nomad. A hot beat of desire went through Samia’s body.

Sudden anger at that response and at his heavy-handed behaviour rose up. She ripped herself out of his hands, praying her legs wouldn’t give way. ‘What on earth are you doing? You could have killed us both with a stunt like that. I would have stopped.’

He was impossibly grim. ‘So why did you speed up when you saw me? You little fool. Who said you could take out one of the most dangerous horses in the stables?’

Samia was still clinging on to the reins. She recalled the pleading of the young groom for her to wait for the head groom to come back before she chose a horse, but she’d blithely assured him that she would be well able for any horse.

Guilt struck her, making her defensive. ‘I’m a good rider.’

Sadiq seemed to grunt something in response. ‘Galloping into the desert on a powerful horse takes skill. What would you have done if he hadn’t wanted to stop? You don’t know this land, and you certainly don’t know that this part of the desert ends on a cliff-edge about half a mile from here and drops into a deep canyon. That’s why it’s undeveloped.’

Samia blanched. She hadn’t known that. The thought of galloping full speed towards a cliff edge was terrifying. Terrifying enough to compel Sadiq to come after her himself. No wonder he was livid. ‘I had no idea it could be dangerous.’

Despite the danger that she hadn’t known about, in that moment Samia feared that perhaps Sadiq was going to be exactly like her stepmother, curtailing every bit of pleasure in her life and diminishing her until she faded away again. With that came the revelatory realisation of just how much she’d changed in the past few weeks,

and it shook her to her core.

A part of herself was being reawakened—a part that had been denied for a long time—and she was scared it would be taken away from her again. The reins dropped from her hands as she gesticulated. ‘Look, I’m sorry for rushing out so recklessly, but I won’t be kept in the castle like some bird in a cage.’ With an air of desperation tingeing her voice she said, ‘You can’t stop me from doing what I want.’

Sadiq looked down at the woman in front of him. The adrenalin was finally diminishing and being replaced by something hot and far more dangerous. Samia’s hair was loosely tied back and fell over one shoulder in a long wavy coil of russet-gold. A silk shirt was coming loose from where it had been tucked into tight jodphurs, which were in turn tucked into knee-high leather boots.

The silk shirt was damp with her perspiration and clung to breasts which rose and fell enticingly with her unsteady breaths. He was close enough to smell her delicate scent and had a sudden memory of the box of perfume he’d approved for her as a gift. He knew instantly that it had been entirely wrong. It was more suited to the kind of woman he’d known before.

Giving in to the twisted inarticulate desires this woman roused inside him, he said throatily as he reached for her, ‘I have no intention of stopping you doing anything once you’re safe. But I can stop you driving me crazy.’

‘What do you—?’ Samia didn’t get anything else out in time. Sadiq had pulled her into his tall hard body with both hands and everything was blocked out as his head descended and his mouth unerringly found hers.

The desert was gone, the horses were gone, reality was gone, and in their place was red-hot desire and a need to fuse herself to this man, to lose herself in him and block out all concerns. It was immediate and all-consuming, as if there had been some build-up within her that she hadn’t even been aware of. She realised that ever since that kiss in London she’d been craving to touch him again.

She clung to the material of Sadiq’s robe, registering the muscles of his chest against the back of her hands. This kiss blew their first kiss out of the water. Sadiq’s tongue caressed the seam of her lips and she opened to him with a deep groan of need, clasping him even tighter when his tongue delved in and met hers, stroking along it with the sure mastery of a man who knew how to kiss, and well.

He clasped the back of her head, holding her captive to his erotic attack, and his other hand moved down over the curve of her waist and to her bottom, pulling her up and into him. When she felt the thrillingly hard ridge of his arousal against her soft belly Samia went still. Their breath mingled. And then an even greater sense of urgency drove her and she arched herself into Sadiq as much as she could, the hot, spiralling need within her making her feel desperate. Her breasts were crushed to his chest and her arms had risen to wind around his neck. And their kiss went on and on, getting so hot that Samia almost expected to feel flames licking up her back.